A GOTHIC-LIKE TALE OF TRUTH

CATEGORY

life

Destined to never

have the evolution

of another Othello-like

burden, you wove a cotton

hued comforter with your racist

pronged needles to be a submerging

deflating comfort, irrespective

of whichever season that would dawn.

Pandemonium, conundrum

corruption and atrocities were

mere simple icing coverings for

the wicked caked nation that came

into being to foster nightmare thunder-

storms of oppressive social disorder.

Shadowing a military state

of the union of a festering nation,

you imposed a law and order police

ethic acceptable to international fascistic

comrades in arms of whatever means

deemed the appropriate necessary measures

to put down The revolutionary liberating

spirits of the oppressed and their allies now

freed of painfully constipated inactions.

The newly volcanic-like eruption of demands

for equitable focus on freedom, justice and the

pursuit of happiness, now have you in genital

clutches—cringing like a trapped fox—and your

veins of sly folly now bleed your inexorable

 demise.   And Like the Thanksgiving gobbler

awaiting his execution, your resent frantic hopping,

pecking, moaning and droppings in your pooping

prized barnyard now produces nothing less putrid

as the white house/outhouse funky end of your

treacherous rein—least fires of hell burn us over.

May it is the will of God that, the gothic beast

shall no longer have the power to make good seem

evil and hate infested evil seem to be graciously good.