Raised by Russian bots 

and algorithms they kill 

and die for brief fame 

Heroes of stone and

bronze people the parks ignored

by all but pigeons 

Wipe the fog from the

mirror and your mind and take 

a good long look, friend  

Woozy from the soul

of wondrous love that abides 

we swoon, oh, we swoon

The budget bulges 

with brutality leaving 

no room for relief  

There's a tree that each

year fights fall and it always 

loses its leaves last 

These fattened vultures 

aren't even waiting for our 

deaths to pick us clean