Behind locked
doors bleeding
light between
their base
and the floor
into the room, kept
in the dark
beyond, they sit
in their smoke-filled
room, fat wallets
cushioning their bulbous
asses as they sip
pricey booze,
and chatter
about how to achieve
greater heights, enhance
their delights of power
and control:
generate faith
in their divine words
from the throne…
Leave bloodstains
where they sit,
holy fabric hugging
their asses.
Fuck them all.
Had enough of it.
Transmissions to Earth 