Let's undress this monument to endowed impocracy Let's poll the trucks and find out who lies behind our fate Let's Marge our way past second fiddle status Let's barber the doris in our maltese wake Let's individuate the strop Let's consume our viabilities at lunch break Let's compose our purity into a pile of chalk Let's lemonade the barracks past the brittle shacks Let's mourn our shoulders Let's quip among ourselves around impure insurgency Let's blot out quasi boots and make their leather to a man Let's erupt into a whiteout of the legions of anxiety Let's disinvite the clown who divvies up the good of the whole platter Let's reverse the charges back to mis-proclaimed divinity
sheila e. murphy
