Shit-Eating Mascots of Money

Avishek Sahu
November 24, 2017

Look who’s been plotting from the beginning of time
Massaging the infant with ounces of lime
Hoping for their prescience to lie about the future
And the dark black days needing no inch of suture
If only it had been theirs to keep
Or sown in their fields to bounce and beep
Or not taken from here to brandish as their own
With a literature too haute in which stalwarts have grown
I wouldn’t need no water, no air, no honey,
When I had a tryst with these shit-eating mascots of money

But the chest must be pumped and the air defiant
It hasn’t been lost in the mind of the clairvoyant
Who fancies his laws to keep up with the nukes
And the moves of the joker till the red brigade pukes
Brandish your guns and make a noise from afar
You got the dames in a blush and the cow too far
But hold on to the hubris you earned in these lands
For it would serve you dear when the banker disbands
That’s when I’ll need no water, no air, no honey,
For I’ve had a tryst with these shit-eating mascots of money

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