Domestic Bliss is a Hit or Miss

This is a rhyme, a rap, said to a beat. . .

 

Domestic Bliss is Hit or Miss
I was standing in the kitchen washing dishes
trying to figure out how I could be
something other than this old vixen.

I’m so old the president when I was born was Nixon,
or was it Carter.
I should try harder to remember
conjure up or even barter.

The people back then smoked too much dope
had too much hope
trying to cope with the changes
they saw coming down the line.

Culture spies trying to co-opt your time
now you need to take back your mind,
you stand on the sidelines trying to decide
unsure.

Meanwhile, they are jumping in to steal your culture
Don’t let them make you one more digital crime.

Now I’m coming in like a momma Vulture
don’t you dare send those kids back to the border
while you sit there with your Costco ass, hoarder.

Now is the time to rise-up, create order
out of chaos comes clarity, comes tears
wash anew, unpack all those fears.

I have to speak up now
after sitting silent for years.