Encoded for progression,
eschewing predator’s claw
and cosmic toxin,
intuitively out and up,
from the clutches of ovaries
evil or benign,
spawned by the ravenous,
restless burning in our mind,
following the mos maiorum*;
of fraternity and freedom.

Nullified by legislated
and cyclical choice,
evincing disdain for
the flowering voyage,
nourished by blood,
and cultivated by sacrifice,
gifted to fools
by collective lethargy,
we still admire the talented, but
elect the incompetent,
with a spiraling
preference for manure,
in that empty
petition for grandeur,
out of step with decorum,
in the bewitching march
of ballot rhythm,
surrendering our right,
not to choose and to fight.

*(A Roman concept meaning “way of the elders”)