Scatter my ashes
when ravens decree
that time is an oracle
perched on a tree
whose branches will fester
one warm afternoon
so praised by the sun
but denied by the moon

They want my precious metal for
For an effigy that’s planned
To stand upon a burning hill
Then name it as a brand
For every fear that’s packaged up
And labelled as control
To bless the population with
The freedoms that they sold

Once I’m in control
The non-smokers
Will be sent to
Huddle listlessly
With the harlots
And drug dealers
In urine soaked
Doorways, while
I light my Cuban
Cigar and puff
Away my life

It's not
that I
don't
believe
in G-d
I've just
not got
round to
renewing
My subscription