The Mercenaries -by Robert Gardner

‘Progress’, you see, is their potpourri,
Their cocaine and heroin rolled into one,
Their best sushi platter
Left out in the sun
Or maybe a pig on a marathon run –
It’s what politicians
Enshrine with visions
And new regulations
For every damn nation
And radio station –

‘Better’ is a dream they dream in the Mall,
A pampered creature in their cattle stall,
A fresh hari-kari that never quite ends,
Another old Mayor who taxes and spends
Long after his party has lost its appeal,
Like a scarecrow guarding
A soccer field,
Where wisdom’s better crop must yield
To a team of thrusting beaks.

Author: Emma Beane

"My history is still one of those mysteries I struggle with every day..." - [ebeane] ... All original works Copyright Emma Beane

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