GOLO… Guns Over Lil’ Ones

Panic ensues
when we realize
that we love
these guns
more than
our lil’ ones –
it ain’t no fun
if the homies
in the gun lobby
can’t have none –
them ol’ bums,
human flesh
at their behest
with the providence
of the dollar
over all callers…
calling out
to the Father,
why bother?
As we are stricken
with contradiction
and idolatry
to orange goo,
the fat, felonious and vainglorious
don’t get me started
in my role
as a poet,
as I store
the Tomfoolery
and vitriol
circumnavigating
the Earth
in my brain cells
to convert into
poetry as a warning
to the others
who have the druthers
and subscription
to higher vibrations
of empath leans
as it would obscene
to remain silent
like Miranda,
so I will opt to
stand tall,
heed the call
and refusing to bend.