Poem: Let The Grief Harvest Begin

Get ready to catch the swifties

Football trials and fribulations
Might just spoil the celebrations
Just another well kicked goal
In the vacuum of this dammed hell hole

They’ve got a blank space and they’ve written your name
Serving your purpose in the sacrifice game
America’s biggest ever pie
Has come under the gaze of Horus’ eye

Out of love for her Pfizered beau
Came running home for the halftime show
Crashing home on the Nippon Express
Miss American Pie in Satan's dress

Just like the King, whose wearing a frown
Ready to abdicate his thorny crown
Goodbye to America’s Rose
For a while there you held good prose

As Willy prepares his crown of thorns
In this time of ever diminishing newborns
Who knows what we can expect to see
As they Usher in the misery

So we could be in for a traumatic weekend
The sort of stuff that could send you round the bend
Should the levee break and it all comes to pass
Hand me the whiskey and rye and a fucking big glass