Reign of the Quisling-Rodents

HEADLINES

16 Of the ego-holocaust; Escapee from this Auschwitz of grab And swallow And your lungs quaver With syphilis night and day As I drink From your cornucopia of rheum Coughed out of infected sore throats My body lotion – as you know – is A mixture Of pus from your strangulated hernia Incised By the stiletto sun And slime from your children’s running noses, Still I rub my glazed face with it as I carry on my south bound shuffle This, To keep me moving in unrighteous paths Look, O! affluent eyes, my way Where you reside in me Like maggots in the carcass of a lion HEADLINES A thousand days sleep and wake On Massive Fraud Uncovered... Issue after issue Malversational drudgery 17 Wears out the sight of eyes That seek to read about fatherland In the chiefdom of a rodent reign Gnawed letters of the alphabet Produce shameful sounds For a monotone of pilferage The country’s surname, soiled By ink-phlegm spat on precious paper I am done with headlines MAMA’S GARDEN Sap of quinine sweetness The toxic flower buds hold: Nectar of misappropriation Mama’s garden overgrows With carnations of ginseng selfishness Roses are black that emit The sweet fragrance pernicious to lungs of the world And swindle is alluring With its intrinsic scent extracts from mints if the legal tender I wilt while bright-petaled hibiscuses of pilferage Bloom in the global-warming sun ...