By Gabriel Mianulli
All the problems in the picture are flooding the world
Before we have a chance to construct boats for rescue
Can’t we have more time to sniff out bullshit politics?
Damage has been done, the hurricanes are screaming.
Elsewhere, we build bombs that taste like backward progress.
Forgotten events didn’t sound their alarms in time.
Gander back, at the mistakes we repeat in tired cycles
Hopped up on loud media frenzies, and bad leadership
Individualism is hard to spot in the storm’s eye
Jobs are abrasive, but we should all have them
Kissing the rings of kings, we taste metal and blood—
Long-encrusted crud that stinks of corruption
Macaques fling dung from pedestals, inedible
Noxiously uncreditable. Awful! Foul! Terrible!
Obnoxious assaults on patriotic principles
Penetrated sacred institutions, reeking like swine
Quack! Fraudulent fool, phony puppet! We see the hand!
Revolution is on its way! Any day now … humming.
Scantily clad, it’s just your type, we all needed it.
Tulip-scented, cleaning smudges from your greasy hands
Ubiquitously we shout: Get the fuck out!
Varmint! Squeak your obscenities elsewhere.
We have work to do, that doesn’t include you or your tart
Xanthippe wasn’t xenophobic, and she looked better
Yet somehow here we are; not where we need to be: quiet.
Zaniness is the dull story of our lives these days.
Gabriel Mianulli is a nontraditional Associate of Fine Arts in Creative Writing student living in Minnesota. He daydreams a lot. He writes Fiction, Poetry and Prose, but has been somewhat slow to submit his work. He likes finding quiet spaces to read, exploring the wilderness, and embracing the everyday adventures involved with living in the 21st century. He is currently working on his portfolio between classes and taking it easy. He’d give you a hug if you asked for it.
Image via Imgflip.