Eddie Monster prom king

The sharpened talons of your pitchfork
Embody your three prong approach
Ready to pierce the perfect skin
Of Innocent young babes
Like a fork through a hot dog’s casing
Over a glowing bed of
Machine mined coals
Roasting on the back yard
Fourth of July
grill

Painfully Pounding out the power points
It is very clear you’d much rather be killing something right now
Decked out in the latest mossy oak couture
The best color corrected camouflage
That tax dollars can buy

Concocting rules with lit sparklers
Clocking the hours
Of repeated speech
In different shades of eye shadow
Poping on screen

You love your life
Because it sucks

While we slowly slip into
Our wet oatmeal mornings
Of long term care
And slow awakenings

You fantasize about us
Poking your muscles
Taking pictures
In the sand
That’s all it is to you now
One big sandbox
Where you lay upon the beach
Oiling your crossbow
And fucking a paper cut out of your life

But fear not
I hear distant seagull cries
Grow closer

You’ve taught us much about ourselves
I’ll give you that
But inside those sweet notes of
Fairness and love
That parents whisper to their children
And the darker exploits
Of the lonely and frail that
You use line your cage
I will never even fake pray for you