I hear Joe's voice inside my head, slurring, mumbling, nothing said.
I see his grin in nightmarish sleep, a rictis of the living dead.
I smell something rotting, wafting across the land.
I feel confused by something I can't understand.
Why? I hear people ask. Are we being punished, if so for what.
Are we guilty of standing by, as they unfold their evil plots?
Who are these leeches? Where are their scruples.
What universities give diplomas to such evil pupils?
My hard earned cash used to pay for so much more.
Now my wallet is empty when I leave the store.
I want to travel but cannot afford to buy the gas.
I sit at home in the cold and watch time pass.
With too much time to think, my anger grows.
I dream of punching Lucifer square in the nose.
He incites such greed in those who call themselves elites.
Millions of minions rush to accept their proffered treats.
They call those who question, the unwashed masses.
 They are the elites, we are relegated to the underclasses.
They are not special, they are not better than me.
They are blind to our needs, I am still able to see.
The path they follow will subjugate their free will.
What good is immortality when burning in Hell.
I hear Satan's entreaties and I turn deaf ears.
I see the results of the left's mongering fears.
I smell the roses, at the end of God's path.
My reward will be spiritual, I've done the math.
D.L. Crockett -- 3/11/23