Everyday you wake up and slobber on the phallus of corporate
America. Drinking down their
vile seed, begging for more of the bitter spooge.
There are so many
lies and false promises that the air around them tastes of vomit and garbage
and deceit.
But there you are
first in line to take them to your chest, like a self-loathing lover, you have no more self-respect than a crack whore.
Everytime the get a stiffy, you think this time they will care. That you will get some return, but no, they grunt,
they pump and they dump.
Off they go tossing a lie or two
over their shoulder as they head out the door.
No kiss, no call, no after thought. You are the
whore mistress. They
don't remember your name when they get to the curb.
But you allow their evil despicable acts everytime.
But you spit, slobber
and snot yourself and raise the corporate thieves on high. You treat them like saints and
canonized miracle makers.
You'd kill your neighbor to be the one to receive their
feces that are thrust down from
their sacred mountain built
upon the souls of the rest of the consumers and workers.
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