Ph or D

 

I

When people sniff their farts and cant read the temp

of the room, to go Soylent on their automatic hung.

Ph or D, I wanna know, what's your incorpore fugit;

whatever the fuck makes bullshit walk lucid –

don't make my money from my pockets haunt Wong!

The Barista can't give coffee, for min-wages Shen-Long;

can't make full hours, for who's gonna pay them shrimp?

II

The Critics are wrong on all, for they are paid by Corpos;

Ph or D, I see acid and corrosive pollution in the drought.

We can't have realism nor fantasy, when Pebbles absolvo;

can't see difference between fiction and Real Life, Astolfo!

Then West can't make Lesbian Romance, due to bought

HR and DEI hires, who pimp, hooker the books to naught.

Get woke stay broke and firesale your assets to China D'Oro.

III

Are they Pheasant or Dick, I can't tell are they triggered

on their hip, to shit on the slip on LSD or are they Dewitt?

Anna Karenina jumping the train, for it promised Dunning-Kruger;

House of Cards hosted a Rerun, but the MC diddled kids Uber.

Why is malice and incompetence heralded, not wholesome grit;

then Machiavellian Macadamian and Cashew nuts spit...

chew on this, and cracker these cheese, as you briggand.