You are sleeping. Your womb is aching. The money is trickling so much slower than the woes.
The bosses are greedy and uncaring. The river is rising. The Elders keep drinking out of plastic water bottles and deny there’s a problem with anything anywhere because you too might one day be a billionaire.
Take your clothes off and come here. We’re going to starve and we’re going to burn. Our children are going to learn but be locked out of power. We’re all going down.
Until then, let me twirl you.