THURSDAY, JULY 07, 2022
I listened to the morning radio,
He still sat, like a blonde toad, burping latin
And exuding slime over us all.
I resignedly stomped off
To brush my teeth and wash,
And returned cleaned to hear
That Boris Notgudonov had gone.
An old age of corrupt Conservatism
Would still stagger on, perhaps;
Or is this the first stone rolling
Down a hillside before
Eventual collapse.
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