Whether hysteria orchestrated by
calculating coteries of faceless maestros
hidden in the warp and weft of their
politically probate homogeneity – or
an oblate obsession publically fed
dangerous, maybe hallucinogenic
substances generally forbidden
– it is still an Election
That I have to wear Media-aided
frenzies of anarchic, spittle-inflected
invective with good cheer imagining
the best for modish solutions to age-
old questions will, none-the-less,
peremptorily leave me breathless
© 19 March 2012, I. D. Carswell
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