Thursday, March 3, 2016

Douglas Polk- Three Poems

Melt Down

masks melt in the campaign heat,
mild mannered bureaucrats,
screaming demons underneath,
outsiders vilified,
rivers of gold,
flow underground,
through the bank accounts,
of the rich and the elite,
each new election,
a Shakespearean drama,
for the innocent,
and the naive,
in truth,
an election never actually,
what it seems to be.


Sanders condemned as a socialist,
while the political party bosses live like communists,
ignoring the laws,
demanding obedience from the masses,
crushing personal freedoms,
in search of the common good,
voters disfranchised,
while non-citizens encouraged to vote,
the party more important,
than the state,
politicians in lockstep,
akin to a May Day parade,
in the USSR of old.

Achieving Eden

Bill Clinton believes he improves the world,
by spreading his seed to the four winds,
but he believes he needs to be reimbursed,
having sex takes money,
and time,
speeches paid for,
in lieu of sex,
he wouldn't want to look the prostitute,
more a parasite,
than prostitute,
as he roams the world,
improving it in his own special way.

1 comment:

  1. Douglas explores his election infractions by the puppet
    poll watching populist characters who sneak into popular