Dopamine drained from 

developing brains serves the 

unquenchable Dow

Strangers passing by,

their faces blank masks, reveal 

nothing as they go

Reaped from our ripe fields,

but not for you and me, who

stand on fallow land

The approaching dawn

can't get the baked on grease off 

of my crusty soul 

The world, a broken

wheel, still turns but with every

revolution slows 

With salutations 

and huzzahs welcome the truth

so warty and wild 

Trouble's brewing on

the edge of town where sidewalks

end amid darkness