(so-called) fact

Hipster mangling my reply he's do or die and I'm not buying
all this tabulation leads to nonesuch weirdos sipping tea and I'm through trying
all the lying bastards and their keepers and their groomers, their advisors pointing everywhere but
Who're they? And who're you and what you think you're doodling on this hollyhock-infested ride
You're feeling pride of course you've run this course before of course on blinded horses
You've no problems seeing through the lies we stew in battered cans and
Underpants gone moldy in some distant, too-close corner smelly still
and all the whining, shrill so insect like in eardrums and the dogwood blooms in
August I believe
So fragrant
Don't you know?
Your row to hoe
Will take you where you go
That's truth, intact,
Well almost
Got your youth
and that's a (so-called) fact
and something's gonna happen
you can rest assured
it always does.

-ZL