From 2016. Always relevant.
The Foot Soldiers of Political Change
aka
Change is in the Wind, like a stale fart
They took
something bad
And made it right
And then repeated
the same mistake
Never knowing when
to stop
Without observing
the flapping faux pas
On their nose
Like a discarded
embryo sac
Made buoyant by
the hot winds
Of time
Once again
solidifying
The corpses of errors
Piled endlessly throughout
history
Reborn and
Redressed
For the new school
of thought.
There’s nothing
like running that injustice
Into the putrid
layers
Of hypocrisy
Tomorrow’s fossil
fuel
Still fermenting
Yet, if you put your
lips to the populous Holy Wall
The stench is
obvious
As the silver
lining sphincters
From whence superiority
flows.
Eww.
Next week,
More in the series on the Eighth Wonder of the World
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