A Chronicle Christmas

A Chronicle Christmas
‘Twas the night before Lulzmas, cops bust in my house,
Revolution was stirring, I was drunk, getting soused.
The jury was hung on a “bad budget” scare,
In hopes that the people would not really care.

For children were starving with rotted out heads,
While visions of whiter slums molested their heads.
And mamma in the kitchen, cooking up slop,
Had just surrendered her freedom to a power-tripping cop.

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I escaped a pig’s grip to see what was the matter.
Away to the broke door I flew with my cash,
Snorted some cocaine and buttholed my hash.

The paranoid delusions were too real to know
In my snowblind confusion, myself my own foe.
When, what through God’s jealous rage should appear,
But a cluster of hippies, 99%ers like steer.

With a human microphone, so lifeless and thick,
I knew in a moment what message would stick.
“Like lightning we’ll strike in nobody’s name,
We’ll whistle, we’ll shout, like this is a game!”

“Now Leahy! now, Schumer! now, Obama like Nixon!
Sign vomit! Now, Stupid! It’s not your decision!
To profit is all! Fuck rights, for the mall!
Now sign away! Sign away! Sign away all!”

As dry heaves that before the belching demons sigh,
What’s done by the government, is ignored and denied.
In the hands of overlords, the Red White and Blue,
Is our fate full of shit, and Big Brother too.

And then, hallucinating, I heard on the roof
The hooking and scratching of Satan’s third hoof.
As I drew in my breath, the pigs turned around,
Down the chimney St Sabu came without sound!

He was doxed to the tits, and only one person cared,
Whose opinion was pointless, pretty much anywhere.
An FBI plant or some Caribbean hack,
We looked at each other, then never looked back.

This, now, is my chance! Sweet escape, how scary!
My face was on fire, coked up and eyes weary!
My right logical brain stroked out to my woe,
And I shook violently daft then collapsed in the snow.

Hitting my face on a drainpipe I lost teeth,
And lost consciousness for days in a foul dreamlike sheath.
The protesters lol’d at our profound lack of healthcare,
That provides us with nothing as out, too, goes welfare.

And in deep dark silence, I felt one knee jerk,
As someone just kicked me to test if my brain worked.
Coming alive, hurt, I slowly arose,
To a throng of brown sluts, bitches and hoes.

I sprang to my feet, and despite a contusion,
I suddenly realized it was all an illusion.
The Universe, being not alive, can not die,
‘Ere it told me the truth: “And the truth is a lie.”

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