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Pander Pander and Plunder the Bin
“Now listen to Nanny, while the nurse gives you a shot. I’ll tie your hands fast, so you can’t throw a swing. Potion injected will tend to burn hot. Like and consider all people. And now go into the ring.” “Would you like to come and stay at my neighbor’s house? Partake of his food and sleep in his bed? You can watch their TV and wear his wife’s blouse. And we can tax them again, once they are dead.” “No vetting, no carding, no forms to siv. Pass the suckers in the visa line and find a place to live! Red rover, land rover, voter come over, and ballots? -- They’re mailed in the Fall.” State, oh Nanny Great, that’s not your gift to give “Free Pre-K , meds, carousels and goodies on pallets for all!” “We never got anything right. Land raiders and trailblazing wagons Went up the dirt road and settled and never would leave them alone. How can our countrymen not see our past filled with dragons? We can afford it to give and we have a past for which to atone.” You want to give to all, even those to whom we have no debt. State, oh Nanny Great. That’s not your decision to make. You want us to pay the way for those we have not met. And for them you’d like to share the coffers and later to drain the lake. Nanny on the couch and the nurse in the chair “What will we say if they disagree? We’ll play the race card and shame them to share What, Xenophobe, you hate them, their ways, and their pedigree?” “We already have the minority -- don’t worry ‘bout them till November. Take the black bandana, and if one objects, shut ‘em down and leave them no ember.” Immigrants new who stood in the line -- Even those siblings are in need for the wall! “We don’t have to have a real program, just say ‘pay in the NAME of our free-for-all’” Pander, pander the sucker and for a chad offer him a pop Slander, Slander the objector and take their home and clear their land of crop Tell the uniform you love them, and on the street just say you hate the cop. Have crinkled paper and foghorn tell your tale and election day, you’ll be on top. No confusion for Salt of the Earth and in their minds there is no murk. But keep your eye on the bozark because with that magic trick he will lurk. They extract your vote, and pull strings and accuse you “You hate latino, Slav, and Turk.” A worthy counsellor in court, and on the world stage, for us, we’re grateful he’s a jerk.
Copyright © 2024 J.R. Wren-Ingalls. All Rights Reserved

Book: Shattered Sighs