It is as if I have turned into

This Literate Monster

That comes out of the bog

Writing ditties

And forming political committees

Once my brain clears

Of the fog

When I am finished

I never feel diminished

But rather high

On the slog

What have I become?

Pass the Rum!

No longer a video camera

Selfie panorama

Poet with ill-timed grammar

Now eternally damned

A new media aged Doctor Frankenstein

Chasing after many minds!

To be or not to be!

Never surreptitiously

A Facebook/ Tik Tok social media

Sunlight!

Smog?

Creature features

Poe with his dog

Wherever you are!

I’ll come and meet ya!

The bard’s rootin’ tootin’ banal blog

When you are in the poor class

You go to jail

There are no mental health services to avail

The rich class is punished

With bail

High-paid lawyers

De-rail their

Prison Tracks

A money-powered

Gravy train

Not available

To economic lacks

Politically shot Kyle Rittenhouse facts

Ask the Central Park Five

Who were imprisoned for police

And justice system

Coerced jive

Only cold steel bars

And recidivist blood-thirsty predators

Await the economically

Dis-advantaged surveilled

Wrong-turn travails

Mr Smith and Wesson

I hope we learned your lesson

You came to teach

Us kids

Within reach

In your familiar

Rat-a-tat tat!

Staccato session

Mr Smith and Wesson

I am not sure

How it came to be

I am in your class

Your instructions are pointedly clear

Seemingly you have no existential fear

Events are moving quite fast

Mr Smith and Wesson

Your integrity

No American can besmirch

You have answered the frightening call

To protect us children all

Our humble

Thoughts and prayers

Reside

As our lives

With you

In your principled perch

Mr Smith and Wesson

Freedom is a noble idea

For it to be taken apart

As my classmate

Is shot through the heart

The Assault Rifleman draws near!

Your political lessons

Leave me

In breath-taking fear!

 

Republican Razzmatazz

Anti-intellectual intimations

False-theory syncopations

Psuedo-truth gyrations

Double-Speak drummed improvisations

Twitter trumpeted palpitations

Flooding the Airwaves

As Jazz

Alex Jones drones

Whir on aimlessly

In search of no-fly zones

Getting conspiracy theory jonesed

Going around in circles

Resembling little kids

With remote controls

Capturing souls

Shouting out “Liberals”!

On their airborne megaphones

Leaving a trail of white smoke

With Hillary and Obama’s number

For the Deplorables to troll

Via social media, e-mail or telephone

You will not find any meat

In their subsistence

Just a cargo full of dry bones

Upon closer inspection

The unmanned herd

Hot brand in hand

To slander

Wannabe pilots

Reveal no truthfulness

Just stones

Flown to dis-own

Reality

Justice is done
They have gotten Doctor Nassar

Except many people knew
Yet kept silent from near and afar

Do you seriously expect us to close the sports bazaar?

Like a fiddle that plays the riddles of Alex Jones

With dark and gloomy
Conspiracy theory overtones

High amongst the Mountains

In the Spiritual Land of Tibet

There sat One Yogi LaLa

Republican Politicians have shown themselves to be craven and without scruples

They take their lessons from The Donald and as such:

Have abdicated their role as Leaders into unseeing, unknowing, uncaring, un-enlightened pupils

“The Black Washington”

Also known in Haiti as Toussaint Louverture

Is one of History’s finest generals