By J. Lynne Moore
Beat back the hypnotic envy machine;
Sneaky little beggar, vagabond queen.
Meaty little bits, a treat left for all,
Ponder the apparatus’ frantic call.
Billowing decay…Kiss that trashy snake?
Hollow promises, far-flung and half-baked.
Stereotyped to death, prosecute none;
Scrawl their names in blood, it’s all come undone.
Savor what victory? None to be had…
Saturate the languid, envious clad.
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