October Poem 20: How Political Sausage is Made: The Liberal Chainsaw Massacre

Inherent guilt and inherent bias.

Injecting Novocain to the nation.

The perpetual spinning of white blades

Pushing forward currents of air panning

Back and forth over the lying bodies.

To dry you to a rigid leather of

Submission. To hollow out and wear you

Like a butcher’s smock, a pair of boots, and

Elbow length gloves. To puppet you through the

Motions of control. To cull dissenters

Like so much chaff among the wheat. Like so

Much grist for the mill. Like so much meat for

Sausage. Spiced, cured, and smoked to be served on

A toasted roll with sauerkraut and Swiss.












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