You Mobs Glo

For the coming insurrection
For the deep joy of political distraction
For the loose leaves of drunk tea
And their prophetic idle indecency
For the blessed in lack of solo thought
For the wine in the cup and the tongue
Spilling the blood, newly forked
For the candles in the window that you 
Just can’t leave to burn
For the spinning of the dreidel and the ashes
In the urns
You mobs glo

For the reason and rhyme of insecurities
For all the monochrome dire uniformities
For the war already lost
And for the one that’s yet to come
For the dumplings in the window
And the plague of the undone
For the bended knee to others adventures
Who sit uselessly contemplating 
A thousand different genders
For the collective power of being able to stop up
The channels of robust debate
For all the fiery delights of your newly directed hate
You mobs glo

For the witches without broomsticks
Who do not pass the test
For the delicate songbird
And the robin in her nest
For the very weather that swirls 
Humanity round the drains
For the delight of demagogues
Who prey on the simple minded’s pain
For the decadence of your democracy
For the lame unjust judges 
You pretend you cannot hear or see
They are coming for you after they 
Come gunning for me. 
For the ghostly echoes on the 
Conch shell beach haunting 
Each and every Sappho’s darling
Who dares to eat a peach.
For you and you: every each to each
You mobs glo 

For those who do not spout the catechism
Of your newly founded cult
For those who have compassion and for whom
Kindness is a fault
For those who are but kindling to an iron curtain drum
For those that hold the power, yet have never run
For those that split the tinder hoping to get laid
And those that prefer to dress as a skinny parlor maid
For those that want to live a life living as they made
For the jail-bound bent over inked-up worn out rough trade
For pagan joy, the fentanyl fetus, the bare of foot
And the legions of solo meat beaters
You mobs glo

I have my own mob, we are called the unclean
We shit in your cupboards and piss in your streams
We snort all the powders and shoot all the dope
We hang ourselves daily and watch each other choke
We will never obey, never kneel down to pray
We taunt the Priests with their anal addictions
And tongue each other’s suppurating afflictions
We bathe in the shadows, the moon is our friend
We will dance in the graveyards and watch as your
Civilized world burns slowly as it ends. 

For you straight armed marchers with your
Sawn off crematorium salutes
And you burnt necked faux fighters
In your gas guzzling chevvy utes
And you lipsticked manipulators
Of feminist pursuits
And you judgers of who we love
And how we love each other to boot
And you wheedling hoards with your
Dandelion smiles who hide your
Knives before stabbing at the
Free and the wild…
My mob glos!

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