Corrosion within a hobbling democracy
Altruism died along side a Calvary king
United we stand divided we'll get mauled
Severe stratification at the political ball
Time bomb attached to societal tumors
Insidious forces lurking about a white room
Caucuses are in the teeth of the 666 beast.
A framed pizza cannot be described as a Mohawk hairstyle in a salon. For if an iron tumbles into a salad bar then ionised tomatoes could become very afraid. Such is the agreeable format for a lettuce leaf. Radiant radishes ridiculing rind. And a dip. And no mayonnaise as it tends to giggle as it is poured. Oh dear. Such travesty in a dish. Wow. If flippers eat kippers then grippers must be dippers. Oh bow to the four sided dog as pyramids could swim through coffee. A collie on a mission is an am or a pm and wires are never disclosed in a tentative tent. Undress then. Wow. How rather entertaining to peel in authenticity a potatoe to place in oiled ceramic bake. Oooh seal deal. Caucuses riotously laughter from the original reporting. And a dip dab do. Tuning. Posturing penguins pointing proudly. Lemon juice on a bicycle chain is a great deity to a hawk in a cradle.sing a song then. La la la. Hahahaha jeopardy jingling. Hahahaha I am a peanut hahahaha you are a door key hahahaha and now we slide. Wow. Xxxx conversationalist. Z.
If erupts again –
the eternal hate of caucuses.
A pipe bomb detonates in a gulley.
Death glides as a superman
like a mutiny in the bowl.
Night stumbles against the kissing moon
on the shore of waning hope.
I will not mourn for my color
I am still nursing a grief.
Walking alone in the shadow of walls
to unhear the screams of dawn.
SATISH VERMA
If erupts again –
the eternal hate of caucuses.
A pipe bomb detonates in a gulley.
Death glides as a superman
like a mutiny in the bowl.
Night stumbles against the kissing moon
on the shore of waning hope.
I will not mourn for my color
I am still nursing a grief.
Walking alone in the shadow of walls
to unhear the screams of dawn.
SATISH VERMA
Whether he crab-walks around
crowded caucuses
or barges into partisan
conferences,
he's impervious to rank,
menacing as a lance
with his irreverent, working-class
nonchalance.
Flaunting his right and his might
as a taxpayer,
he glares in the eye at senators
at the foyer,
telling them if much-privileged
idiots could fly,
Congress would be an airport
from on high.
Really not much of a preamble
kind of dude,
he calls politicians boorish,
slovenly and crude
who look and act stupid because
they really are;
that's how regular he goes straight
for the jugular!
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