Through the forest, they crashed
As the adventurers swung and slashed
At every vine and lash
Clink clink
As their swords struck the stone
They felt it in every bone
They watched in awe
As the vines pulled back
Their jaws hung slack
As they read aloud
We touched the stars
Both near and far
Yet, now we fear our shadow
Nothing more is hallow
Our minds have grown fallow
The uncultivated masses ruled by asses
Lash us to our worst impulses
Repulsive spectator sports of weak retorts build their cohort
Far above us flies our highest fort
The last outpost of hope
We thought we had learned the errors of our ways
But all was lost in an irradiated haze
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Where's the Glory?
In breaking news, rehabilitated Republican Senator Johnnie Johnson (Pronouns: HE, HIM, HIS) called a press conference from the Men’s room of the New Orleans Louis Armstrong International Airport, Concourse B, across from the Ignatius Reilly’s Lucky Dog stand. The Senator had just returned from a sexual reorientation rehabilitation program in Memphis, TN after being publically disgraced at a Buckee’s Truckstop restroom soliciting sex from an undercover cop three months ago. He is a founding member of the Reformed Christians for Christ, a conservative, pro-family and ex-gay advocacy group. In the spirit of being reborn, Senator Johnson invited reporters to marvel at his plans for a major remodeling of airport bathrooms.
By Cathy Schieffelin5 days ago in Humor
Comments (2)
What a fight and adventure. Excellent poem!
Sounds like the politics of today...we need a moment of victory...somewhere.