Wednesday, August 17, 2011

The same small club that just swaps plums

A little like being a turd in a punchbowl,
blissfully participating in
the American civic religion of statism.
A downer, a crank, a loonie, a jerk,
a positive evil about uncomfortable facts,
the indistinguishable nature of large vested interests.

Their state-enabled exploitation,
the same small club that just swaps plums.
Electronic voting gizmos bully and plunder us
with abandon, and you'd rather we had
a dictatorship experienced as an
emotional act, willful denial.
To murderously lord it over the entire planet,
one particular region of tyranny,
like a badge of moral superiority.

Border on zero, also bright blue
adding to the pile, despite his high negatives.
Math makes a pretty cut.
Expressive voting decreases my impact.
The corrupt crowd will suddenly stop stealing.

Splashing a seductive performance,
prompting deep thoughts,
dragged herself out under durress,
her one and only, she said mournfully.

One of the lower matchups, this earth judging,
like he did in that clip.
As much of a cunt as he currently is,
gassing up like a legend.
Go outside of this small circle once in a while.

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