Thursday, November 7, 2024

Doink


 

Polls close in ten nine eight seconds ...

The human experience

in the blink of unknowing eyes.

Invisible digits of the indivisible.

The truth is out there. Don't believe.


Idaho goes potato. Georgavania

goes uppity Humpty Dumpty's wall.

Florida goes Banana Republican. 

Sudden good places to get shot in Las Vegas

for wearing the wrong color denim jean dreams.


Too call. Too close. Talking heads verbose.

Quaker oats shoved down liberal throats.

The mutant vote. Take note. Take note.

Hear the sacred chords grind to a halt.

To keep up is to try to paint the wind.


Six five for three two to who won ...

Meanwhile, the referees confer

over a simple truth long dead.

Dreary never-ending eons ago.

Sharks will always hunt these waters.


Ballot box numbers both dead & alive.

For a universe no longer in existence.

For society sleeping before it wakes.

Mysterious bruises & blood splatters & sweat.

Rolling clouds of astronomical inconclusive.


We will clearly serve no queen here.

But instead a king in reptilian regalia.

Broken bric-a-brac of Democracy.

Might as well be Greek. Who is white,

who is wrong. Just Italianate me.


~ Douglas McDaniel

Tolleson, Arizona


Mythville Books













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