Satan in a Sunday Hat

You sycophantic institutes,

Chthonic demi-gods in Sunday hats.

You parade us for outdoor pick nicks

And we gonna party like its 1984.

Late night shenanigans,

And early to rise to the sounds of monotocromous

Blackberry alarm tones.

Something rings a bell here…

Time for a midday cookie treat,

Snack! Pavlovian human rearing to the

Enth degree.

Why did I never learn?

They will search every nock and cranny

Of your spirit and demolish it

Like the master lumberjacks

they hope you will one day become.

But within the eyes of every demi-god

In a Sunday hat,

You will sometimes finds a hopeful suicidal

Twinkle,

Daring you to defy.

Chainsawhack through their rooting

Zombie emptyshelled bodies.

And step through the gateless gate.

Peace.