Snake Oil Free Speech
by Odin Roark

Listen close
Here’s what’s going to happen

This is where the rubber leaves the road
The father gripping the wheel
The mother with Coleman cooler at her feet
Beach towels and blankets on her lap
Clueless children in the back seat
Smart-phone-games dumbing down consciousness

You’ll be cruising into the sunset
A barren swamp peppered countryside receding
As oncoming ocean depth
Reflects your personal blood-red sky

All the evil will vanish
As you leave the highway
Slip and slide the sandy road
Dodge beer cans and mistake’s exhausted condoms
Coming suddenly to destination’s end

Your transport will cough its last fumes of gas
Your seat’s cushy-springs will explode
Like coiled serpents in waiting
As icy breath clouds evil-singed windows

Welcome to your Last Stop Beach
Swollen with humanity’s layered dead-cell cake
Iced over with slathered Coppertone delusions
Past attempts at escape
Now but flotsam washed ashore

You’ll try to remain calm
But your virtual-arcade will quickly drown
Along with my Sunday morning radio voice
Gurgling a personal salvation promise
Just for you

And that’s what’s going to happen
The final waves will disappear your sorry lives
Until the awaited day of resurrection
For he told me so