MOTHER
King Midas was the ultimate metaphor
for the lot of us
everything is fine
till we come along and turn it to shit
jolted out of complacency
your first instinct is to
stockpile that asswipe
funny
when you think of our priorities
just don't be squeezin' that Charmin, okay?
too many bodies
it's what I've been telling you
all along
too many friggin' heads
to even try to count
but nothing to be done about it now
'cept to kill a crapload of us off
is that what you've had
in the back of your mind
all along, Mother?
in the name of self-preservation?
Mars looks on
and doesn't blame you...
so quiet there now
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