Drunken revelers soiled the city streets
polluted bloodstreams
got them acting like
scattering ants avoiding a child
Celebrating three decades ago
when cable news extinguished God
to appease politicians who prayed for our worship
I stuff my backpack with contraband
Bukowski, Bradbury and The Bible
A rusty revolver and damaged ammo
Forbidden
by a faceless Interplanetary Tribunal
I write my dead father a letter
Tough to understand certain words
since they outlawed speaking your mind
Down a fire escape, onto the demolished avenue
A death drone dives from a sky filled with soot
Disintegrates a woman singing on the corner
Earth Penalty Code 4214.36
A pink shirt proclaiming Elvis is King
Her ashes flood my nose like swarming gnats
The burnt stench of Freedom
Avoiding the mechanized mobile prison skiffs
I slither up to Penn Station Crematorium
and silently bribe the last human cop walking a beat
A black market data drop of Mahler and Zevon
He opens a dented steel door with a paternal warning
Avoid those things on the old subway platforms
Alien Creepers that enjoy the taste of human flesh
I break through mutant spiderwebs in dark hallways
Urine smell keeping ghosts at bay
Heading east down the deserted railroad tracks
Blood stains on the pummeled concrete walls
I am on a quest for death or sanctuary
Interminable years before this moment
On a leaky hospital barge in a polluted river
The State branded me Owner-X
ANGER AT THE END OF THE WORLD 
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