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the criminally insane

casting ballots

at the annual inmates general election

a mock formality

while the guards look on

smirking as the folly unfolds before their eyes

a form of mockery

the masses queue up

fighting, jostling

to elect one fool

over the other fools

one fool to be king

for a while

just for a space in time

only  a space in the minds …of those who play the game

 

to be king

the king of fools

a fool of a king

the new ruler of the bent and corrupt

vying for the worthy title of “THE FOOL OVER ALL FOOLS”

 

so we all raise our hands

arms outstretched

with elbows locked as if in mortal combat

fingers arching outwards, then clawing in and slamming shut

like the desperate tentacles of dying sea anemone

desperately clinging

to some precariously endangered coral reef

grasping at the loose sands

the frail winds of empty promises

arms then return to our sides

filled only with the imaginary substance

of that which we hope will sustain us

 

and we all strive

with all our imaginary might

to make our mark in the air

random sparklers in a fantasy sky

vanity, chasing the wind

like the fools of the fool

believing we have caught it

that we have indeed captured the wind…

 

and so we tell ourselves that we’re happy

until the next time…

but indeed

we, the mindless

fossils with no fuel

we are faithful to the task

 

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