the cabals in the corner

 

The Cabals in the Corner

 

by Kaleem Raja

 

Mar 10

 

 

Wake me from my coma,

Save me from the prurient and inane.

I can’t tell the psychiatrists from the insane.

I know nothing,

Lesser men even less.

And we know not of the machinations of the female mind.

As pigs guzzle gritty troughs of decomposing grass and rind,

I am September struck

Navel gazing,

Watching professors grazing

As the masses swarm around the swill swathed across the cesspit.

Cut throat and throats slit

For less than a pound per flesh and bone and blood and guts.

Because you must

Have a reason to justify the carnage at the carnival;

Stick a pickaxe in the face of a war child,

Bludgeon an old man into a pulp,

Snatch a morsel from the mouth of the emaciated,

Lead the emancipated back into chains,

Inject poison into the veins of a dying man,

Impotence, infertility

Make millions from poverty.

The tills roll as the old world order stands dripping blood on a cross,

While the new one cracks a whip, stripping liberties of their minions

From the shadows.

The cabals in the corner

Do all the above and call it aid.

It’s a morbid, blood drenched, banshee wailed parade,

Lugubrious state of affairs…

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