The palindrome falls on shadowed riots,
clamoured mediocrity
and fever of falsified truths-
hyper-normalised until we’re writhing
in animatronic snake oil.
What’s worse, the hysteria or the disease?
Over-indulge the fascists
kiss their fists as they flail in cognitive dissonance-
white knuckles dragging to the rhythm of another media blag.
Patriotism cradles their fear and wraps it in red, white, and blue;
a stifled tricolour vision,
bathed in sanctified blood-clotted volition.
They’ll never let them come clean
they need their repugnance,
and inability to see that hope is an option
but the disparity is always just a news broadcast away.
A nice cheery Brexit poem <3