Poem for the Golden Age

Chicago about to find out
Who daddy is, how mad he is

Watch the choppers descend
As I soil my Depends
The Department of War
And the rotting Kilgore

Watch the immigrants scatter
Their crimes don’t matter
The power and the fear
Are what I hold dear

I love the smell of it
The burning hell of it
The liberals crying
Congress denying
          the reality of it
                    the depravity of it

The Department of War and Billy Kilgore
Chicago about to find out


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