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May 2018
Puff and Pomp of Circumstance
I maestrate my digits unseen
As an old lady hums loudly off-tune
begging to see their face
I tap my fingers to the drum

Watching myself walk the stage
Knowing I will receive no applause
How many people will watch--
Scoff as I go the distance

A piece of paper with a shiny crest,
Firewood, tinder, disinterest

A hilarious dream,
The biggest lie ever sold
But I still walk and talk and sit as I'm told

No great symposium,
No perfect forum

As every time I went to speak
I was silenced,
Pleaded to keep clean

The great farewell
dictation of objectivity
Of dis-indoctrination
I wanted to scream

No ma'am you are mistaken
The quaking words you claim are making
A better world, a better place?
Setting the stage for the end of day

And a rambunctious after-party
Full of mean mead and black wine
******* in the grass of the divine
"Let us remember..."

That they have never been

"...In the holy presence of God"
Written by
Bryce  M/San Francisco, CA
(M/San Francisco, CA)   
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