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Punchlining the opposition (Waltz with the inquisition) (Free verse) by SupremeDreamer
Again my targets are fuddled
started callin me confusion-
thought he said Confucius?
Fuck it, and more insist
on detailing thoughts nonexistent-
pinning them on my skull, grinning
as if they won solo the olympics.
Wanna-be? oops, reverted to negro
and you prophets just blow-
whats worse? don't get paid for it.
Charity orgasm, god your slow.
I expect retaliation & maleficent post-it notes.
Whats really funny? They await my submission,
only to suffer the erosion of their golden articulation.
Stramash done parody style, but they mean business.
Me? smile while donning the silly-ass-hat
pleasantly mocking civility, feeling an omens press
and their half-ass pretentious stratocracy.
Mr. politician goes ultra-totalitarian
rapturous while conducting stratification-
quite annoyed by my smashin strathspey
eyein the kilt, mistaking me for a woman.
In the end, he sure ain't a strategian,
but makes more ruckus than my red nose
and platinum cymbals gone pagan.
Waltz with haste, submit my punchline;
this dance comic & somewhat divine,
donning the sacred neon jester sign-
and you expected me to resign?