18 Jul 2016 – Sonnet
The people’s prophet smears his hate like paste
and scrawls his name on every forehead bowed.
The party boot licks kneel – no time to waste!
“The basest bile we think he shouts aloud!”
The septic tanks arise to spit their votes
while humming noxious, patriotic tunes,
and all about us jackass-Joes hurl quotes –
the heat and noise enough that strong men swoon!
Some say “just trust the people, they know best!”
But such are cynics, hypocrites, men mad
who’ve worked to make the mindless mob ingest
their propaganda – as their pockets pad.
No requiem, at least not yet! Tho’ stink
does make men think that death stands at the brink!