You must login to vote
I find myself refreshed, talking to a chair.
Politicians run, hide like little girls.
Jesus warned us where not to cast our pearls,
before swine, He said. All they can do is swear
at those who put them there and turn on them
and rend us with their golden tusks and root
for one last cent, our necks beneath a boot.
I find the outlook for us somewhat dim.
It's been a hoot to watch the empty suit
squirm in a vacant chair. I want to know
how low he will go, will he try to mute
our voice, our choice, and make us borrow more?
I don't think he is worth a holy poot.
Sometimes you've just got to let a man go.