Some Angry Lines For All the Fuckers in the World

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again.</p><p id="3209">To you I wish all the joys of little lives like ours rest easy in your studios your shelters your flops and alleys it’s not you I’m raining Hell’s curses on tonight.</p><p id="5586">Tonight, a finer aim for these words.</p><p id="5df7">Feral lords of the boardroom building machines to steal our work selling the future for pride and a fistful of bloody silver. <i>Humans need not apply</i></p><p id="57b6">Gamblers in land and lives razing the hearths of centuries building empty palaces on the bones of families buried deep. <i>You can’t go home again</i></p><p id="a66e">Fawning writers of laws lying on the broken polls pawning your shabby souls to claw and suck at the teat of Greed. <i>Make my bank account great</i></p><p id="36da">Vipers in suits and hoodies liars cheats deceivers thieves

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</p><p id="cdb7">Hiding behind gates and guards chatbots and PR flacks but we see you.</p><p id="cb38">Tonight you’re on notice the clouds are gathering the waters are rising the ground is shifting and all debts will be paid in the end.</p><div id="edf6" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/down-by-the-library-a065b19c2593"> <div> <div> <h2>Down By the Library</h2> <div><h3>Prose poem based on some almost true events</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/1*J_Yw5k1IrO3Ggnvbb5_ZYA.jpeg)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div></article></body>

Prose from a cold sleepless night

Photo by author

These are some lines for all the fuckers the miserable pricks and wretched shitbags who infest the human world.

Not you loud-mouthed drunks bumming smokes in the road with a mad wink and a leer not you late-night punks singing a hunter’s moon while the drowsy burghers curse not even you petty cons chancing your tiny grifts in a jagged hard-luck world.

Not that I want you crashing on my couch those days are gone But I’ve raised a glass with y’all before and God willing I will again.

To you I wish all the joys of little lives like ours rest easy in your studios your shelters your flops and alleys it’s not you I’m raining Hell’s curses on tonight.

Tonight, a finer aim for these words.

Feral lords of the boardroom building machines to steal our work selling the future for pride and a fistful of bloody silver. Humans need not apply

Gamblers in land and lives razing the hearths of centuries building empty palaces on the bones of families buried deep. You can’t go home again

Fawning writers of laws lying on the broken polls pawning your shabby souls to claw and suck at the teat of Greed. Make my bank account great

Vipers in suits and hoodies liars cheats deceivers thieves

Hiding behind gates and guards chatbots and PR flacks but we see you.

Tonight you’re on notice the clouds are gathering the waters are rising the ground is shifting and all debts will be paid in the end.