Plan D takes Plan R to the next dishevel.
America has grown up these last many years
and what grows up must double down.
Hences:
bigger fences,
badder nonces,
freedom from freedom,
blood for blood for money.
Lists liberate themselves from fists;
balled up hands cannot carry pens.
Three letter agent,
place a rest under your sun.
That old god nodded off
in your afternoon's unevening.
We miss those days.
When green was green.
Grass was grass.
Clover clove roofs with purpose.
When real work worked itself out of a job
and into pieces of paper
that keep other people
other eyes employed.
United hates fractured into states
minding minds algoschismed
into fate baits and great gates
willing will to marry
ick to mer and unity again
to never anyone's else.
Roman Ryan 