Words
Your lucky number’s gonna change soon
I see a hand on a gun in the rear-view
gratitude smells like chlorine in the tap water
but our childhood history books are in the clearance bin
Good news is mostly propaganda
so celebrate the humiliation of the enemy on your lunch break
a black mirror to the pink sky and the blue stars
prejudice against an absence of prejudice
Heads in hands at the bus stop
On the first day of Christmas
12 Walmart shopping bags in dead branches above
a frozen sister-in-law with no legs
Little boys inside big boys inside the comment section
they won’t pass the blunt but
mansplain over the algorithm
while we watch the leaves hang on until New Year’s
Does this machine kill fascists?
the teachers cut an Angel-shaped hole in mine
with no God to fill it but an Angel alone
this machine is still afraid of betting for joy
Playlist
December 12, 2025
arden briar smith