O Liquid Life

Now clean water is under siege
Your cells cry out for it
Soon plastic will be around your neck
Oil cloaking your skin
Sun draining the life from your overworked bones

Death by pop can is a harsh way to go
But an executive order can give you a nice funeral
At least, a superficial one
With flowers, a morning crowd
A pleasant, nostalgic inducing sky

Then a man shows up
Authentic in some ways and not in others
Tells you that a force unseen created his mistakes
What a nice funeral
You’ll always remember that day
When a kempt man tromped on sacred flowers and stole a dead man’s voice

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