GOODBYE RON COHN


Goodbye to your 1000 cuts store
Goodbye to your poisoning store
Goodbye to your laceration store

Goodbye to your abuse store
Goodbye to your store of lies
Goodbye to your contaminated store
Goodbye to your infected store

Goodbye to the rotten fish
You have on sale

Goodbye to the rats and cockroaches
That multiplied in your store

Goodbye to the moldy
Carne Asada
You camouflage with red marinade
For it to become
A hot seller

Goodbye to
The BUGS
In your store

Goodbye to the brave working class
You take advantage of
In those madhouses of yours
The ones you like to call
“Marketplace”

Goodbye to your conjures
Of stress

Goodbye to
Aching backs
Cut fingers
Carpel tunnels
Broken dreams
Slave wages
And all the zombies
You hold captive
In your stores

Poor souls
May God deliver them
From your addiction
To profits