02 April 2020

It's the plutocracy, stupid

— that bitter,
crabby fruit
of your undiluted,
love of money —
was your undoing.

The intoxication
turned you
fanatically factious, 
unspeakably violent
and ugly.

Were you
thus predestined
already at conception,
wearing a rough-hewn mask
of staid piety
as cover?

The disguise is today
shot through
by repulsive pock marks
of hypocrisy,
a spectacle
for all to see.

ol' No. 1;
your gorilla
pecuniary power
is powerless
to stay
your decline.

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