The Title of me is me and a title
not me entitled
harlequins aping disrespect are
thee without self-respect
waltzing in stunted dulled minds
they somersault in self-deciet
unable to atest or own
real equality is from thee sublime
to thou sublime unseasoned
the voiceless glory of reason et grace
unlike the blunt tools
the roosters who flare and pirouette
chicken wings agape
puffed in chicken dance ridicule
look y'all
we rule the roost around our cages
( perhaps till the Colonel from Kentucky arrives)

Who needs to prove aimless strength
but the weak et doubtfuls
who rattles the sabre but the poltroon
in his father's barrack
do cults print postage stamps et currency
when its merely a refuge
for similarly affected densed in private signals
hark ye go drink from wisdom's well
raging at Title is accepting your inferiority
your shadow boxing is confirmation
Dignity confidence self assurance and grace
will look you straight in the eyes
and say
I am civil and will treat you fairly and equally
and on merit  till you show me otherwise

But we know you cannot do as such
and how we laugh and indulge
for lacking in self respect and self assurance
the Title dominates your minds and spirit
and with little or no merit
all you can manage is puff out hollow chests
huffing and puffing
doing the chickens dance at the Republican Disco
in aid of the socially weak ******* maim and dumb
and confirming in all your intents and purposes
you can never be privileged
except only by others like you not by one as THEM....

From their sources
all the hysterics, histronics, dramas and operas
from this view
nothing resonates, nothing is remotely evocative
nothing triggers nothing
the clone in their crosshairs
so far removed other than perhaps the mere physicalities
this was Chris and Joan's 'Truman Show'
sanity was and is never never a party to any of all this
and The Emperor's new Clothes meets Pin the Tail on the Donkey
and people are led down the garden path
who said 'you can#t fool all of the people all of the time'
and do you think crminals are sometimes called Racketeers
because they play Lawn Tennis, of course, Not
Anyways,
say what you like, but
at least our gangsters are nefariously adaptable
when Chris and Joan smeared their lies
they were sure the target would run away soon into the aftermath
who is going to brave Hell
he didn't run
and he faced Hell full on
So its his fault if we keep on making it up as we go along
the charade continues
its psyche warfare, its Neuro-linguistic programming
its perceptions Assualts, oh its Sensitizing, no its Anchoring
no, no, no try Haunting, how about just Bullying and Harassment
Whatever,
who will tell them they are fighting a clone
I just have a Front Row seat
and I'm munching Cashew nuts