Truth is a Short Lived Tyranny

The Poetry of ‘Pig Pen’ politics on parade

Photo by Crispin Jones on Unsplash

The pen was oozing a grim, wretched sludge
Through it two powdered, aged hogs did trudge.
They’d arrived for a duel, an argument of sorts
Soon all watchers were abused by their insipid snorts.

The Orange hog farted, grunted and set obscenely to intrude
The Greyed hog seethed and hissed, dismissing one so rude.
The court gavel fell and misgotten property soon fell asunder
The Grey top stuttered to silence, not tempting a vocal blunder.

But the Orange coif spat his poisonous venom as if he was rapping
The Grey fuzz whispered and sputtered, “Stop that incessant yapping.”
The bloated hog puffed, “in 47 years you’ve done nothing.”
A grey whisper, “Covid — you killed thousands as if you were bluffing.”

“You’ve got a love of white supremacists,” the moderator said.
“No, well, but someone’s got to… and buried his orange head.
“You asked those rabid racists to stand down, but stand by?”
The Orange tan cracked and he winced and prepared another lie.