Flint Child Speaks To Candidate


You always fly first class, a bottle of Perrier at your fingertips.

I drink lead.

It weighs me down.
I can only look up and watch you fly over to your next campaign event.

In this oligarchy masquerading as a democracy, you have never represented me and you never will.

Outside in the street, I pick up the half-full bottle of spring water you tossed from the window of your limo.


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