Running Out of Runway

The vulgar obtain degrees in sophistication, the sophisticated study vulgarity. Mice dress like men, and rats lead the wolves. No one is happy with their lot, that allotment given, or taken away, that political lottery that none win. Can we shed our skins, like serpents shuck this old-time corrupted living, rinse away the sludge of an untold history? The bells no longer ring in small town churches, where the average meet to understand our showboating American God. Razzamatazz glitters on, illuminating the homeless as they shop for gold teeth, for it is good to smile and shine, when left behind, under the cold, cold, floodlight of fame and infamy.