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Sickness Lost Partisan Muzzle Drone

there is a sickness in this world
solid as a crime
she is pure as venom
and has me doing time
I consumed all your prescriptions
and burned your moldy Catholic books
indulged your death inflictions
then crawled back on her hooks
she cracks wise blood
treading life's water cramped and tight
in LA's hinterlands of drug lords
with halcyon halos burning bright
she's a sickness in the world
and I can't resolve her
the fever pumps and swells
it's rehab or the revolver

for the lost partisan muzzle drones
for the lost partisan muzzle drones

oh I declare
lost partisan muzzle drone

 

©2014, Timothy James Swenson