Jordrew Peterfield

With your ilk afforded control and respect

It might seem presumptuous of us to expect

Justice in what the future holds

That there will be a story to be told

Of how your grift will sink and rust

In a sea of pervasive distrust

Your prescription is violently dangerous sophistry

Moral obligation only to your balance sheet

Scientist of convenience

Motivated by a distaste for divergence

Actively uninformed beliefs

Unjustifiably aggrieved

Your words are violence

They are stricken like matches

But it is no skin off of your elbow patches

Pieces knocked off your multidimensional pigeon shit chessboard

Crippled by the effects of a placebic cure

The same pieces rise up to come knock down your door

To dismantle what you're agitating for