Negligent to the letter,
discrepant to a fault,
and vying for the world,
a stranglehold to meld
their wishes to outcomes sought.
They parry and they weave,
obstruction their cause,
to rule from below the parapets
in dark spaces they cavort,
as their aberrant beings aught.
For they rise from the gutters,
assume the shells of worthy men,
and beguile the likes of hopefuls,
their scruples in their pockets,
loose change and reckless ends.
Their tongues are dipped in silver,
and words like crystal cascades,
yet the seething truth of ill-intent,
squirms like necrotic worms unveiled,
feasting on integrity.
And further they rise to status,
known for word and deed,
yet what awaits the truth at core
is nothing less than need,
and reality spews out like bile.
Then it is too late,
they reign by our bewildered hands,
given paths of destruction,
the desecration of our lands,
by egos so swollen they have no end.
We see them spouting platitudes,
blaming, scouring certitudes,
while truth gets a makeover,
and pies divided ache over
the losses others wear.
Yes they are what’s expected,
their positions resurrected
before our very eyes,
as they rise to make their mark
upon the corpses they so darkly compromise,
for they are politicians. Surprise?
Tony DeLorger © 2017