Same as it ever was, we go about our days.
We pledge allegiance to the dollar and the republic for which it stands.
Hammers and sickles, and stars and stripes, and crescent moons.
Our lives enact the algorithms of a jealous god.
Moloch, failure of coordination and victory of the status quo.
Moloch who sets interest rates and the price of a soul.
Moloch, the reason we hurt each other.
Moloch who owns the banks and the factories and the politicians and pits them against each other as prisoners in a dilemma.
Unwittingly, we serve the machine.
A free agent, the charity and its cause.
Fentanyl and narcan, of vertically integrated sorrow!
The salvation army and all of its hateful henchmen and tax beneficiaries.
What sphinx of cement and aluminum bashed open our skulls and ate up our brains and imagination?
Moloch, whose eyes are a thousand mirrors, blind to your suffering!
Smash them! Jab them out!
Let us see if Moloch truly bleeds oil. Let us see if steel can burn.
The vampire cannot enter your home uninvited, but can certainly trick you.
The markets fold, the monkey's paw curls. The machine breaks down.
What for food? For shelter? For love? Can you help your neighbor? Can you help yourself?
Will you let Moloch decide?