I've done a lot of things I'm not proud of
but I can't be tied to those forever
so people forgive and forget
I try to forget but still feel bad
and I know there are still sore subjects
that I should be sensitive about.

Scrolling through Reddit I see a post
of Māori students at an airport
greeting their returning teacher
with a traditional Māori war dance
which was an admittedly sweet gesture
but something didn't sit right with me.

I wondered why the students greeting their teacher
had to do so through a display of militaristic nationalism
I wondered if that was the last dance the Moriori people saw
before the Māori genocided them for their resources
I wondered if the Māori danced like that
as they *****, murdered, and cannibalized the Moriori.

Wondering all of this made me ask myself:
Why did they have to greet their teacher like that?
The students wanted to make a big gesture
which dancing is perfect for
but dancing can also be vulnerable and embarrassing
because people may mock how you express yourself

but strangers at the airport are less likely to laugh at you
if you're doing a synchronized dance with a group of people
and the dancing is recognizably tied to national identity
because then it's a culturally rich dance
you're a xenophobe for laughing at
and that's what nationalism is:
strength in numbers and a readymade identity
in lieu of an individual personality
oftentimes for the sake of pistanthrophobia.

So as I read the circlejerking comments on the post
I wondered what the difference is between
a Māori war dance and a **** salute
I guess the Māori people have experienced
more oppression than Nazis
but nationalism is nationalism
and those who have oppressed are oppressors
and many who are oppressed would gladly
be oppressors given the chance.

Nationalism isn't healthy for culture
and often isolates people from other cultures
that are all combining due to globalization
which people fight to preserve their little dances and costumes
so we can stay in eternal conflict over delusions of supremacy
when the only nationality should be a global one.

Don't you know that foreigners are bad?
They take our jobs and make God mad!
They ****, and ****, and *******, and pillage!
Why don't they just go back to their village?!
Terrorists they are! Every one!
What they've done cannot be undone!
We have one here, what's under her veil?
Surely something that will bring hell's hail!--

What's this?--

There's nothing here but hair.
Maybe this hatred that we all share is nothing more than an illusion.
Society's fusion of their elitist views and fears.
I...I can't believe this has brought me to tears.
Oh God. What have I done?

You gave your love to the government.
Your liver to the greyhounds
and the squalor you live in.

The Asian district disappoints you
with its inaccessible women
to whom you are flaccid and unlovable.

The pub is full of students,
air humid with *** and youth-
all those impossible frames of reference.

You, proud emblem, are confused by it all.
The drawl of the six o'clock news:
“there is a war at your own front door.”

The Golden Age was taken for granted,
a party spoiled by strangers,
strange music, strange clothes;

the symbols you cannot understand.
Tradition fades to dementia, greyscale,
redundant colour, and jaded patriotism;

you raise the mourning flag alone.
A country died in your lifetime,
your romanticised vision of home.

Mirror Opposite

I am what I am?  What am I?  Hedonist, Activist, Devil, Bodhi, Perverse Geek?  I am what I am.  

I am violent tempered but always happy. I am sickened by the worlds decay but delight in the cause of the infections that lead to that same decay.  Opposite ends of the same slide rule.  I ask myself daily; “Self, what are you today?’  The response is never the same and always confusing. I am what I am.

I AM, isn’t that what God said in Genesis?  Was God indecisive too?  Fool, you are not a god!  But, I do believe a god rest in each one of us.  

I am pleasure.  Who doesn’t like to find pleasure?  Come to me.  The sweet, sweet embrace of another, the moisture of the kiss, the exhilaration of the something new, dangerous and palpable, that causes an alkali sensation to rise from your throat.  

I am what I am and that’s all that I am.  Are my forearms as big as Popeye’s?  And, just what caused that deformity anyway?  Surely not *******, as the midnight comics suggest or we would all be his brothers.  

I am Buddha.  My inner being screams in disgust at being reborn again and again and again.  I know how to break the wheel of karma but, that Ferris wheel holds wondrous deprivations along the way and who am I to not try on one or two of those hungry ghosts.  

I am Fey.  My wings clipped and banality killing me slowly.  Where is my golden acorn to plant under a full moon to renew my magic?  I am attracted to hell and repelled by a chorus of angels.  If there is really nothing better then cloud-sitting in heaven then why bother, Give me Valhalla.  At least in Valhalla  you could get good tickets to a fight.  I am a mirror.  

I reflect what society tells me while struggling against the media-ocricy that streams into my sensory organs like polluted waves from the Valdez.  A elephant seal of anarchy covered and drowning in my own conservative opinions.  

I am female hear me roar.  If for no other reason then being told that, however in touch, I can not be a feminist.  I pay homage to Aphrodite upon her shell, Dianna by her stag?  O.K. Maybe not a feminist.  How about sexist, or racist, or bigot or xenophobe?  Maybe.  

I am  Worm fodder.  I wish to believe in another world after this but hide behind science and its violently anonymous creator.  When dead will we all lie quiet as the grave in out grave as the worms crawl in, the worms crawl out, the worms get in my guts no doubt.  Would that be so bad?

I am the shade of Inubus and Quatezecotyl, Crowly and Repoche.  Lapping up their words and making a **** pile of their experiences.  What am I?  

I am what I am.  Silent when I should be loud, and an abomination when I need to be beautiful.  Polar opposite made flesh with a grin.  

What am I?  I am a Questioner.  There is no knowledge that can withstand time.  Every question is correct and every answer is wrong.  How do I know what is truth.  Is there really TRUTH or just Memorex.  

I am a Seeker of arcane thoughts and novel philosophies.  Everything has been said.  But, can it be said in a manner that makes sense at this point at this time grasshopper?  How many licks does it take to get to the center of the tootsie pop?  I want to know!  

I am the Thinker. Elbow on knee, hand on chin.  Why did they **** Copernicus?  Was it really just for a heliocentric universe or something much more political?  ROY G BIV are the colors of the rainbow but what if we could see ultraviolet and infrared?  What if I stood inside the rainbow would it be back as all the colors mixed?  I am what I am.  

I am the Adventurer.  Sword in hand and cod piece attached correctly.  I head out in search of what I question and seek and think about.  How else would you find your own truths.  Truth, not beauty, is in the eye of the beholder.  If every grain of sand is an universe unto itself then I wish to explore each and every one to delve into their faceted trivialities and pillage the knowledge from them.  

I am an organic being content to take over a new world each night in my dreams and complacently ignore my biological clock counting down to unknown oblivion.


Wolff

it's true
the revolution will not be televised
but the fascist revival premiered
on all the major networks' corporate channels
in 1080p HD at prime-time hours

with perfect clarity
viewers could see
an oompa loompa
with an orange toupee
a xenophobe
spewing violence and vitriol
peddling snake oil while spitting venom
stirring a bubbling cauldron
spilling over in fear-mongering demagoguery
served like crack candy to the Republican elite
reveling in their privilege
cheering white supremacy

a tyrant
tirading behind a polished wooden podium
flanked by hues of red white blue and gilded gold
like some comic strip super-villain
but this obtuse excuse for human refuse
is not some Saturday morning cartoon
defeated by the heroes after 30 minutes
of selfless feats and epic deeds
a death dirge plays on repeat in the background

you can't always get what you want

meanwhile
we're holding silent vigils back home
carving the sigil of Orlando's skyline into our skin
while a snake slithers into a City Beautiful
bedecked in her $3k pressed pant-suit
leering wolfishly at a local club for LGBTQ+ youth
the downtown heartbeat
of outcasts and misfits
a Pulse
that bigotry and self-hatred couldn't *****

but tragedies are converted to cheap currencies
in the clawed hands of dynastic oligarchs
sporting the support of billionaires and super-PACs
she knows the Establishment has got her back
she'll shed crocodile tears
just in time for the photo-ops

violence begets violence begets violence
humanity's universal language
a tongue shared by despots and presidents
in the wake of stolen sanctuaries
she'll justify razing Syrian children
beneath a barrage of hellfire missiles
and predator drones targeting cell-phone signals
under the pretense of bringing the terrorists
to some sycophantic mirage of justice

we're manufacturing new soldiers
for the Caliphate to brainwash with promises
of dead gods and seventy-two virgins
machine-fed by automatic weapons
to the toothy jaws
that bottomless maw
of endless ******* war
which always vaunts
profit over people

the conceptual construct of gender binarism
becomes an imperceptible selling point
in the incomprehensible and reprehensible rhetoric
issuing from either side of the political aisle
but what will it matter
either way
an egoistic megalomaniac
has his or her finger poised over the trigger
a neoliberal warmonger and hypocritical fraud
or a reality TV star who lauds the KKK on Twitter

our only hope is found in the streets
unchained by compassion's transformative capacity
freed to utilize our minds
humanity's indomitable faculty
nurturing a community that seizes life
in anthems of liberty equality and solidarity
anarchic manifestoes penned in lines
of red and black ink

progressives will insist otherwise
they'll declare emphatically that our only choice
lies in selecting the lesser of two evils
to lead us to the brink of oblivion
but Orwell wrote the future of humanity
looked like a boot crushing our heads
that either way we'd all be dead
and the harsh reality is that the soot-stained sole
curb-stomping this country
fits both the left and right foot

Actually feeling like death is better,
Better than letting her borrow my sweater,
Cold but she needs the warmth more and pleasure,
Doesn’t come easy when we’re talking Heather,
Endlessly flowing love has nowhere to go,
Fire and water that will burn and will flow,
Getting pain and repose all in one blow,
How do you regulate love? no one knows,
Infidelity fills the atmosphere,
Just like how the mug and all of your beer,
Kills you over time quickly drawing you near,
Little voices, the insanity premier,
More drugs to drown the drastic discomfort,
No way you know how much I have suffered,
Open the blinds but keep emotions covered,
Painfully black and white out the colors of,
Quirky emotions that fall off the shelf,
Remind yourself that nobody can help,
So you end up understanding that the self,
Tortures you and you can’t blame anyone else,
Under pressure and stress twenty-four seven,
Violence seeping out pores till’ I’m deafened,
Woke-wise so I won’t make it to heaven,
Xenophobe so no change cause depression,
Yields surprising results in the face of,
Zipped up introverts in the place of poets.

Another sleepless night Im having
Bothered by these unfair thoughts.
Crippled by the guilt im feeling
Destroying my once lovely dreaming.

Every time I see her face
Fear rips through my tightened chest.
Gentle laughter now forgotten
Hatred for myself still blooming.

I feel as though Im always followed
Jumping at each and every noise.
Keeping to myself and crying
Learning to hide from my nightmares.

Maybe one day I'll be just fine
No longer blaming myself.
Or perhaps I will never change
Possibly only becoming worse.

Quizzical is my way of thinking
Ridiculous I have become.
Sulking in my darkened shadow
Teetering on the line of insanity.

Unwanted pain fills my soul
Vanquishing my beautiful memories.
Withering away from everybody
Xenophobe I now have become.

Zealous I will never be again.


-ARI

The holy crusade of tacit masochists
An esoteric, timid terrorist
Led pumps through your veins,
Copper through mine
My lips Israel, yours Palestine

You sweat iron ore to fuel the war machine,
Your tear-ducts producing only gasoline
My nations prime exports,  indulgence and sin      
I fight for my lord, but I crucified him

A xenophobe, a chauvinist
You're the sullen bigot, I'm the narcissist                                      
I'm breaching your periphery, I'm sparing no time
Searing your flag to cinders, Superseding with mine

The A to Z of Choosing that Special One


Actions speak louder than words, some say
Belonging to that period of time, we call day
Considering their impact on others, we may
Develop that strategy, and keep negativity away

Endlessly searching for that special one
Frankly speaking, will that time ever come?
Going to convince yourself you've won
How to deal with failure, calling yourself dumb

Investigating a way for you to have fun
Jack of all trades, yet master of none
Keeping the truth from under the sun
Laughing at you, you turning numb

Managing those feelings of despair
No one knows of those cries you fear
Over and over you say that you care
Predictable enough, when you pull out your hair

Quickly running to gain that control
Relying on your friend, in whom you've trusted your soul
Standing there alone when all takes its toll
Then finding out, devastated, she's been that mole

Under that pillow, the one you once wished to share
Victory to those that you thought had a care
Willing no longer to ever bring near
Xenophobe is now that condition you bare

You've now learned one of many more lessons to come
Zealous in choosing that someone to call, "Special One"

***** to the percussion of sound.
The harshness devastates all the people around,
That’s what our embodiment occurrences bring.

Violence seduces,
Into the predilection of wounding,
the populace **** your ******* faith.
Be a ******* human!
I am!

We all learn,
Some faster than others,
To belong to,
Like minds.

I tiptoe through the agoraphobic xenophobe,
That is the amoeba of darkness,
That soul eats you called government and falsity.
All things you see are redundancies.

Contents of that Secret F.B.I. Memo

Next week the world is going to end again
When the north pole and the south pole switch places
According to secret radio transmissions
Secretly beamed from the secret headquarters
Of the secret Club of Rome far beneath
The Vatican and secretly aligned
With the secret sword of the secret Knights
Templar with the secret star WD-40
By our secret Masters on the secret
Planet Xenophobe in secret accordance
With the ancient prophecy of Cranium
The Elder discovered in a Prince Albert can
By the Portuguese philosopher and
Explorer Almoso Nutellaeus
Who thus received the dark secrets of the
Atlantean sorcerers in a secret
Language which only he was able to translate
When the Moon God Myrtle of the Aqua Kirtle
Blessed his Radio Shack TRS-80
With a rare pixie dust which can only be
Found in a certain secret plain in the
Sahara Desert at the Winter Solstice
Marked by a Bionic Blood Altar cursed
By the Knights of Toledo in a strange
Ceremony which can only be witnessed
By the Initiates of the Order of
The Cumulonimble Secret Ferrets
Of the Discalced Colossus of Roads
Whose emblematic pilum can be discerned
By pouring lemon juice over the pictures
Of the Caesars in a sacred clearing
In the secret Wood of the Thirteen Oaks
And a Loblolly Pine made when The Primal
Pole-er Bear from Beyond Time set up
The North Pole and the South Pole, and gave the
North Pole Santa Claus and the South Pole Little America
Station, and this Manichaean duality
Has set the planet in opposition
To itself, resulting in the cancellation
Of Gilligan’s Island after only three seasons
Because Gilligan and The Skipper were close
To discovering the Pre-Raphaelite
Anaemic Amoebic Astrolabe in yet
Another papier mache cave infested
By toxic golden hamsters of existential doom
Guarding a time-and-space portal leading
Directly to Oak Island where Captain Kidd’s
Lost cuff links (the ones with little pictures
Of Elvis golfing with leprechauns) can
Be found, the cuff links that channel the energy
Between The North Pole and the South Pole enhanced
By the chakra of a Hoover vacuum cleaner
Once used by Winston Churchill’s housekeeper
During the Blitz before she married her second
Husband, Trevor, who was the Hereditary
Keeper of the Keys of the Guernsey Privy
And thus a carrier of fairy blood
As required by Ye Ancient Lawes of the Booke
Of…something-or-other…which was carved in runes
On Roman skulls just before the loss of
The Island of Anglesey to Governor
Suetonius who was told by The Voices
That the Druids invented rock ‘n’ roll and
Must be destroyed so that the harmonic
Harmony of the North Pole and the South Pole
Could be restored to their primordial
Nordic vanilla pudding.

(Pentagon E-ring office—executive officer knocks & enters—General motions him in)

XO,
Explain
examinees...

                              Examinee
                              X-11,
                              Xander
                              Xanakis

Experience?

                              Explosives
                              expert.
                              Ex-Army.
                              Executive
                              experience

Exam?

                              Exceptional

Excellent!

                              Excessive

Exessive?
Explain

                              Extreme
                              xenophobe

(expletive)
Exclude

                              Examinee
                              X-12...

Xavier
Xanthopoulos...

Experience?

                             Expert—
                             extraction,
                             exfiltration.
                             Ex-Navy,
                             Executive
                             Experience

Exam?

                             Excelled

                             Extracuricular
                             extras...

Explain

                             Expat,
                             X-games,
                             xylophone...

Expat?

                             Xalapa

(chuckling)
X-games,
xylophone—
(laughs)
X-Factor!

                             (XO nods his head, smiling)

Xenophobic?

                             (shaking head)
                             Xenodochial.
                             Exeptionally
                             xenophilic!

Expectations?

                             Exceeds
                             Expectations

Excellent!

XO,
exclude
examinee
X-11...

                              Excluding
                              Xander
                              Xanakis

Expedite
Xavier
Xanthopoulos

                              Expediting
                              examinee
                              X-12

XO,
excused

                               (XO exits)



© 2020 by Mark Toney.  All rights reserved.

A red, hot mist; a lit match
To a puddle of gasoline.
Anger is a beast, frothing at its mouth
Hungry, hateful and lean.

It is in the husband who beats his wife,
physically, and verbally;
It is in the vitriol we spew
At each other detrimentally.

It is in the xenophobe,
Who cherishes resemblances
And apprehends differences.

It is in the people,
Who segregate into a familiar tribe
Unaware of who tortures us all
Unwilling to unsubscribe
From the delusion -
'I am right, and you are wrong'.

Ire smolders beneath the surface
Until the surface is no more
And all that is left
Is a charred, blackened sore.

It is as corrosive as a vat of acid,
It will burn you to the core;
It will destroy all that is inside you,
And nothing will be left to restore.

Infuriation is a many-headed dragon;
Devalued, unjustly accused,
Hungry, hated or powerless,
Ashamed, anxious or defenceless.
Demeaned, disgruntled, upset;
These are all emotions
That lead to ire and regret.

Yet, it is also self-preservation;
In an unjust world,
It is the burden of a whole nation.
It is the sense than informs you
When you are being cheated;
Like the sensation of burning
Upon touching an object that's heated.

Yet, unknowing and uninformed
We are always at each other's throats;
The establishment is elated,
In the embers of society, it gloats.

For, in this insane, deluded world
Happiness is a rare consignment,
A moment amidst the chaos,
Not a constant incitement.

We must look beyond our petty squabbles
And realise there is more to deal with
Than each other's issues and troubles.

Anger is as addictive as ******,
And just like it, it feeds on vulnerability.
Should we unite against our common enemy
It would mean invincibility.

We should not target each other;
Instead we should aim at those
Who have brought us here.
Those who steal, lie and control;
If they cannot, they will cajole.

It is those who have turned life
Into a rat race which nobody will win.
Divided we are controlled,
Unaware of the power within.

Yet, you ask, what if we were united?
Imagine, a whole world's anger
Aimed at the right mark;
That is what I propose,
Before it is too dark
And humanity swallows itself whole.

___________

By: Cedric McClester

Forget about Isis
No matter how you slice this
Trump is the crisis
Who’s rolling the dices
It’s not the Southern border
That is causing his disorder
The entire world can see
His insanity

He’s taken the word of Putin
Over those that he’s disputing
When it comes to matters of state
They’re treated second-rate
To our collective amazement
Some say he’s a Russian agent
There's reams of evidence
And it's in the present tense

He’s a racist and xenophobe
Now the emperor has been disrobed
He stands naked in front of us all
Even before Mueeller makes his call
And the fact we have to face
Is he’s made us an international disgrace
Make America great again?
Do you really think he can?

Fellow Americans has it come to this,
Is our ignorance truly our bliss?
He’s a master at spinning a yarn
Now the horses are out of the barn
The need for the 25th Amendment
Has become nothing, if not ascendant
But even though at times he’s clever
His reign of terror will not last forever









Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2019. All rights reserved.

Afraid of the dark
   amazed by the light
Behind the face of a
   broken boy
Concealing his emotions
   carrying the weight of his guilt
Deepening your intellect with
   details of his inner thoughts
Extending the night into day
   effortlessly with a sinister grin
Foreshadowing the
   future without hope or
Gratification he cannot
   greet you with
Happiness for he is
   helplessly
In search of new insight
   in order to bring a more
Jubilant vibe to life and provide
   joy for others to possibly
Kindle the repressed joy within him
   knowing there is rebuttal
Looking him dead in the eye
   livid from betrayal he
Meets a new friend
   mastered in the art of revenge
Never looking back he
   nearly kills himself looking for an
Oasis
   oblivious to the realization that this
Pal is inside his head rather than
   presenting itself before him he is in a
Quandary trying to
   quantify his emotions
Rather than understanding what has been
   released inside of him
Soon enough he has an idea to
   saturate his body in
Toluene in hopes
   to escape the
Underworld that is about to engulf him
   ultimately he must
Vacate this so called sanctuary to find
   value within himself
Wading knee-deep in
   water trying to determine is he a
Xenophile or is he a
   xenophobe the boy
Yearns for an answer
   yell at him so he feels something
Zany he may be as his three digit
   zip code is six-six-six

Didn't think Xenophobe was
A compliment few things I despise
More, like smallness for one narcissism and shallowness for another
Always felt a little black and a little homeless
Hardly ever seen from the first glance
They think it's snobbish I call it zoned out
I like it there in my space where your
Predictable logic has no place to be
They think judgemental when
Under an honest stare
They poor out their truths
Expecting I must like Jesus give them love
And answers
How could I ever lose touch with words?
So articulate you say. I go mute but you will never know.
But all you wish to know is a stereotype
A pretty tale that puts more value
On your price tag
Nothing you knew
Nothing you will ever know
For all you see is your own
Limited empty reflection

Our movement is about replacing a failed and corrupt, political establishment with a new government controlled by you, the American people.

The Washington establishment, and the financial and media corporations that fund it, exists for only one reason: to protect and enrich itself.

The establishment has trillions of dollars at stake in this election. For those who control the levers of power in Washington, and for the global special interests, they partner with these people that don’t have your good in mind.

Our campaign represents a true existential threat like they haven’t seen before.

This is not simply another four-year election. This is a crossroads in the history of our civilization that will determine whether or not we the people reclaim control over our government.The political establishment that is trying to stop us is the same group responsible for our disastrous trade deals, massive illegal immigration and economic and foreign policies that have bled our country dry.

The political establishment has brought about the destruction of our factories, and our jobs, as they flee to Mexico, China and other countries all around the world.

It’s a global power structure that is responsible for the economic decisions that have robbed our working class, stripped our country of its wealth and put that money into the pockets of a handful of large corporations and political entities.

This is a struggle for the survival of our nation. And this will be our last chance to save it.

This election will determine whether we are a free nation or whether we have only the illusion of democracy, but are in fact controlled by a small handful of global special interests rigging the system, and our system is rigged. This is reality, you know it, they know it, I know it, and pretty much the whole world knows it.

The Clinton machine is at the center of this power structure. We’ve seen this first hand in the WikiLeaks documents, in which Hillary Clinton meets in secret with international banks to plot the destruction of U.S. sovereignty in order to enrich these global financial powers, her special interest friends and her donors. Honestly, she should be locked up. The most powerful weapon deployed by the Clintons is the corporate media, the press.

Let’s be clear on one thing, the corporate media in our country is no longer involved in journalism. They’re a political special interest no different than any lobbyist or other financial entity with a total political agenda, and the agenda is not for you, it’s for themselves. Anyone who challenges their control is deemed a sexist, a racist, a xenophobe. They will lie, lie, lie, and then again they will do worse than that. They will do whatever is necessary. The Clintons are criminals, remember that.

This is well documented, and the establishment that protects them has engaged in a massive cover-up of widespread criminal activity at the State Department and the Clinton Foundation in order to keep the Clintons in power. They knew they would grow every lie they could at me, and my family and my loved ones. They knew they would stop at nothing, to try to stop me. Nevertheless, I take all of these slings and arrows, gladly for you. I take them for our movement, so that we can have our country back.

I knew this day would arrive, it’s only a question of when. And I knew the American people would rise above it and vote for the future they deserve.

The only thing that can stop this corrupt machine is you. The only force strong enough to save our country is us. The only people brave enough to vote out this corrupt establishment is you, the American People.

Our great civilization has come upon a moment of reckoning. I didn’t need to do this, folks, believe me. I built a great company and I had a wonderful life. I could have enjoyed the fruits and benefits of years of successful business deals and businesses for myself and my family. Instead of going through this absolute horror show of lies, deceptions, malicious attacks, who would have thought?
I’m doing it because this country has given me so much, and I feel so strongly that it’s my turn to give back to the country that I love.

I’m doing this for the people and for the movement, and we will take back this country for you and we will make America great again.

-Donald Trump

when i feel down
for knowing i know
i don’t not
stoop low

i cut morbid
short circuits shorter
for torture. torn rapture
it incapacitates

and breaks order.
to do so
i con endorphins.

i feel small.
especially
when they grow
and go.



and i'm here. more
                                                            ­alone.
than ever before.



i resort not
to overflown words
nor spilled souls
poor or porous

they transform whole
into prose seldom spoke
almost as though
forced forward
fueled by formerly
foreign
external forces

and i'm a foreigner.
and i'm a xenophobe.

and i am
a vagabond gone rogue
to enforce laws and propose chaos

my thoughts provoke.

i ****** them to
withdraw.

they pass it on.
they're why i’m so
withdrawn.

to belong, i pass it forth.
and i'm so far gone
regardless, i will
keep
withdrawing.

gavin mcinnes:
english as standard.

   cato-wee-q'

           q': cue / queue
apostrophe

   "key"...

   i love playing
this game...
who's who
where's what?

   Q, q,
     is not subjected
to diacritical scrutiny,
given that it's
O, omicron...
with a fiddly bit,
Q, upper-case,
and a p "leg",
in the lower-case
format of"things",
i.e. q

repeat after me,
but i know you will not:
cato (yeah,
that roman philosopher)
vee(r)
                the R is
optional
                       c
                       t
                       s
                        e          'H

which basically implies...
the "xenophobe" populaces',
inherent bias,
translated into an "inability"
to, learn,
foreign, languages,
expecting, everyone,
to speak,
their nativistic / globalist,
language.

            sound about right...
no middle ground,
you either learn our language,
done that,
or you *******,
kevin spacey moment...
where am i supposed
to ******* to?
where those somalis came
from?

               i met you half-way...
what now?
a ******* hamburger fetish?
back "where":
that's also called
a deep-fried mars bar...

even "now":
it's now cato-vice,
or... cato-wee-qí (yes,
that's an acute iota,
a dot:
hovering over
a poιntless dιacrιtιcal
mιsuse of dιacrιtιcal
ιndιcators)...

               vy-ιce...
and that's not: vιa-ιce...
    sure as shιt ιt's not:
vιce...
      do, "you",
really need ιt?
    what?
   those dots, halo-hoverιng
above eιther I or J
ιn lower-case?

   where's 1? l, or I?
                     one, el, ιota?
to make "comparιsons"?
         seems ι came after
a beast that owned only
two heads...
and now: a hydra...

cato-v-"tst"eh...
    ι
ι      ι
    ι               ι
ι ι               ι      ι

i never asked to be taught
this language,
in order to integrate,
but,
having to bypass the natives,
and the quasi-natives,
to achieve
the lingua franca status
of the english language?

c and ć
   cierpki
     is as much
when...
you chop the "head" off the iota...
                 ćιerpki...

there's a difference between
being mad / angry,
and an outright circumstance
of expressing pedantry...
to counter, per se,

why would a language employ
easily nullified diacritical markers,
when, in point of fact,
they do not indicate
anything of use?

        maybe this is what
Heidegger talked about,
when something becomes
question-worthy,
the question instigator needs
to feed into a fear...
   perhaps that,
or perhaps that i'm drinking,
and i haven't eaten anything
within the confines of the past
24 hours...

then again, maybe i'm a walking
abortion,
      a "man-child",

lucky Jesus, lived to be only 33,
maybe i succumbed
to never being bored...
   maybe there's that,
replacing a concern for vinyl
with a contempt for video games...
or just the general
circumstance of being
   subjected to the question:
what is wrong with you?
culminating in this,
variant of, a claimed expression?

problem is...
     "problem",
or something alligned to
e. e. cummings...
   punctuation markers?

              mea culpa,
mea culpa, mea culpa....
mea culpa...
  and who, ever said,
there's nothing wrong,
with the person,
who asked you:
what's wrong with you?(?)

logic desires consitency,
even if the consitency
is credibly deemed
                     hypocritical.

By: Cedric McClester

Round them all up
The President said
Disrupt their sleep
Get ‘em out of bed
Send ‘em back to the countries
From which they fled
‘Cuz he don’t give a ****
If they wind up dead

A heart as cold as ICE
Doesn’t factor in
The kinds of lives they led
Or from where they’ve been
He’d like to see a country
Where if you have white skin
You’ll have the advantage
Over other men

His in-laws are immigrants
But their pigment is white
One was even a Communist
But he finds that alright
He’s an avowed Xenophobe
Who often gets uptight
When it’s someone of color
Who out of fear took flight

He wants ‘em rounded up
And deported right away
He doesn’t give a ****
Whether night or day
His racist like tendencies
Are always on display
He’d like Latin Americans
Deported now today




















Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2019.  All rights reserved.

Santa Claus was seen voting
in several stations around the
UK today, this is blatant support
for Labour, dressed in Communist
Red, even Rudolf is a Marxist.

I'm not a Xenophobe but, Santa
is not even a British Citizen, he
should not have been allowed
to cast a preference, because he
is also a known *******.

Pro's
LOVE!!!!!
Unity
Harmony
Bliss
Great ***?
Love is blind (at first)
Beauty is only skin deep
Beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder
(get it out with optrex)
And if the bed collapses
I'll see you in the Spring
Con's
love....
End of Honeymoon period
Excessive wind?
Excessive snoring?
Messier than yourself?
Tidier than yourself?
Picky?
Financial implications?
FAR RIGHT
FAR LEFT
RELIGIOUS EXTREMIST
NARCISSISTIC
COERSIVE
BIGOTTED
RACIST
SEXIST
XENOPHOBE
­BULLY
DISLOYAL
CONSPIRACY THEORIST
None of the above?
Then there is hope!

by Jemia

Tell tale eyes behind dark shades
Enemy to smiling or show of teeth
Xenophobe save for Ace of spades
A novice in a seat for celebrity
Silently learning his poker face.

Horseshoe and Rio casino hosts
Omaha, Draw, Stud games alike
Lady luck for Tilly her fans may hope
During World series chips will fly

Every odd bloke with buy-in plays.
Millions of dollars & bracelet at stake.

If you are white and can't
grasp what it is like to be
black or xenophobe'd for
looking different, having
an uncommon accent or
no *******, then I suggest
you try being a vegetarian.