more daunting than mount doom

and if I had a penny for every gammon rubbing sausage…

and if the turkey ran up that hill to die…

and if that turd splashes down on your crown..

and if you look at that petty mask,

would you take that to task,

or would you chuck it out like the rest?

courting the slimy smoked backed porkers,

in the shit of the gender squawkers,

the pathway to more riches for the rich,

more slavery for the universally credited.

in their defence,

“..they’re dangerously incompetent..”

may their numbers collapse,

as the complete of their deceit,

reaches fever pitch,

the chants of the enraged,

take their toll on the deranged,

the mordaunts of horror take honour.

© Copyright 2022 InkeyString

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