the poor are still poor
the dying still die
those obsessed with power
wrap themselves in disaster
like moths in cocoons
only to emerge stinking of
blood
self-righteousness
their own vile shit
weaponize everything
the weapons
the disease
the cure
cockroaches
are time travelers
come back to honor
their ancestors
the fit of melancholy (20200407)
Words and Feathers 
Those roaches will be here way beyond the extinction of humans.
Some of them seem to have found their way into government.
Roaches in ill fitting suits
With bad haircuts.
Not to mention the dye jobs…
Oh. Wow.
Yeah. Definitely a grumpy poem.
Roaches and shit are fitting words.
You just like an angry man with a potty mouth!
Ha! Angry crows with potty mouths are fun, too.