TO BE . . .

                                 TO BE . . .
                                OR ELSE!


DAMN! DAMN! DAMN! My undone curse
rang with my disturbed, rhymed verse
of horrors creeping eerily about,
of trolls at night on slippery routes
sweeping through the pained ecstasy
of scurrying ghouls festering to be!

WHY? WHY? WHY? Monstruous ogres among
 obese and decaying politicians sung
lying rhymes of voting girls in dresses
worn torn and ragged, combing their tresses
out in obscene chunks of rotting clumps
of decaying congressional rumps!

YES! YES! YES! The country is saved again
as these masses of putrid men are voted in
and disgorge hateful laws that revile
their public despairingly while they smile
at how smart and wolfish they can be
wringing truth and freedom from you and me!

And night’s political curtain fell
a final time in this man-made hell
while poets prosed in rotting rhyme
and men sipped infected political wine
and lusted after votes of pretty girls
to comb putrid laws from defamed curls.

IT CANNOT BE
‘CAUSE I AM FREE
but
RAGING
AGING

I AM ME!

Rose 215                                                             Fritz Crytzer
                                                                           August 2022