This Race Of The Dead Poem by Michael Walkerjohn

This Race Of The Dead



Spitting
slandering
sandbagging
faith forevermore
perhaps, kinda, sorta
maybe… so, phuucking what!
Splitting, meandering, districting
to that distinct advantage for
securing a republican candidate's
vote totaling robbery of that seat!
Willie Cayote kinda maybe yes-sir-re!
Cross-eyed christ-like pretending miscreants
never ever intending to be any-thing but a
pedigreed pharisee want-to-be phophy
wad of filthy cum splattered blind mullets!
Letters, dresses, panty less lasses getting
their asses spanked behind closeted doors…
such easily manipulated whores…
insignificant, yet substantial, irrelevant
and always hysterically screeching out
their contempt for males and whatever'
You know the kinds, and what special
purpose each of these kinds has in
their surly minds! You find these
just about anywhere… self-righteous
indignant and petty… panting behind
locked basement doors… ancient in such
mysterious ways… surely possessed of a
demon or more… and these things hold
a substantial edge on that voting thingy!
Butt, there is that covid creation of human
creativity… and this is problematic… ain't it?
Just what would a ‘set' of omnipotent parents
do… to a ‘set' of beguiled children who doodoo
upon the natural nature of creation's mysteries?
Well now… we do know that this covid thingy
is that loaded for bear bit-o-microbiology!
Quick on the draw, more so on the bend, and
pretty much fatal to older women and men…
we know it does many things to many things
within the human husk… and as its presence
presents to each husk some diabolical expressions!
Like making a husk drown in excess lung fluids… Yea
what a messy and quite strangling way to pass! So
we also know it expresses a desire to practice a
specific pedophilia, upon the tissues, of your
little human children; very dire pedophilias
indeed… and we also are learning that in
the most healthy of humans… it easily
takes hold and grows and stays for
many more moments than a husk
can sustain itself for… expressing
its desires and needs and feeding
frenzy until… that healthy of husks
begins to feel its ilk! Ummmmmm
starting to sound as if the covid was
red! As in necked, as in; any republican
leaning human being republican and leaning
in towards their inner Fascist… Gracious… and
way forest away from centrally being a guest!
Kinda, sorta, maybe, so like those tea bagging
low braying, low browed, neanderthals that
really want to be cro-magoo-men! Come
again? Oh, yea this term implies most
modern of human by design… Okay
the true picture, is slowly being
expressed to the awe of all of
the citizens of the U.S. of A.!
But, who is complaining?
Who is demonstrating?
What group is angry
about all the fuss?
Specifically?
Old men
of a tone
aged and
ethnic of
colour and
women both
young and old
and children who
already have issues
and this covid does
appear, to have a
solid upper hand
in the awe of
this race of
the dead?

This Race Of The Dead
Friday, May 1, 2020
Topic(s) of this poem: birth,condolence,curiosity,death,lies,lives,living
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
"The Human Race" one species currently involved in a really real situation of protect your self because there will be less and less help
coming from who know he!
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Close
Error Success