Speaking Ill of the Dead
Dishonorable plastic discharge
gouge a crater debt
of predatory lending regret
Dead faces on printed paper
exercise still
their executive will
Oppressive weight
from the mausoleum stacks
of dollar bills
Folded temptation —
some crispy new,
others old and faded
Both remain in
C-4 spend circulation
See for the blast damage done
to the slug underbelly
Crawl into the barrel
of a power drunk
cellar dream cluster fermenting
So psychotropic ink sick
from chasing the jade paper trail
Dead faces stay buried
in their head
Throttle the creased kick,
unfurl the abominable pirate sail
Skim cream of the dairy
udderly dead
Emerald leaven rolls
hidden
in the basement mattress
Adjacent to the Egyptian carvings
on the ivory headboard
of a Cleopatra-scented bed
Whispering voices,
from a dank, debt dungeon,
echo lovingly ...
with craven, creditor joy
They murmur ecstatically
of the profits reaped
in the name of idol presidents
lying in earthen beds
Covetously urging
the living
to never speak
ill of the minted dead
Copyright © Freddie Robinson Jr. | Year Posted 2018
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