21. "Transatlantic Handshake"

Here is the rain you prayed for, blood on your hands:
An anguish that none living comprehends.

Oncoming headlights, some are on, some off;
This season of misrule far too owned to slough.

I call the Deep Ones in my ev'ry fiber,
Drizzle-flags & Shilohwards the fibber.

I give the Grays munificence & shreds,
Bell jar stuffed with thousands of poignant chads.