Under The Boot...
In the cold death of Winter they came,
Owners they said,
For safety's sake.
Cities sweating below zero,
The arbiters of choke,
Freedom is only for their kind,
So they say.
The time will come,
Because frozen is slippery,
Like a loaded boomerang of karma,
And a nation of laws is all about karma.
It's been said for thousands of years,
About what you live by.
I wouldn't want your karma for all the rubles in crypto,
So feed your pride while you can,
Because when the snow melts,
Living rooms will overflow with popcorn,
As the circus reaches its natural conclusion.
All we need to do is lift voices,
Our fingers can rest easy out of circulation,
And of biblical proportions,
Juries will rapture their asses,
Out of reach of pardons,
And tailors will gleefully sew gitmo suits.
Pour some butter on that after it pops,
The big tent is getting ready for a grand finale.
AquarianM
By: Daniel A. Stafford
©
01-25-2026
01-25-2026