Even for the dead
The bitter taste is fingered
With all the socialist read
An obituary -
Let’s have a celebration
The bitch and he
They at one who split a nation
The dab old hands undimmed reaction
In suit, shirt and tie; somehow freed
From deep drift, dark light contraction
He sought no mitigation, no balance
No desire to find a fairer view“She led the boys a stiff haired dalliance
While he culled the cutting crew”
The bitter taste still lingers
Even for the dead
“I hope he counts on countless fingers
Of all the lies he’s yet to tread”
a poem from the collection Some Trickier Poems - Love with Conflicts - available as a kindle download or library item by clicking here