Holywood

If another letter tumbles off

It won’t make a difference

The bloods and crips

Still humping away

Smut films being made

10 for a dollar (cheapest shit, anymore)

Old men in old clothes

Crawling under overpasses to expire

The forever summer and variable rains

Talks of revolution, secession

And secret volcanoes

Morons begetting morons

No more brainiacs to help me out

Just my people

The millennial hipsters

Wannabe beings

Fizzling out

I’m no better

Oh, if you could see it now

You’d laugh and get drunk, again