Fraudulence

Stereotypical archetypes manufacture,
absurdities over tiresome melodies.
Superfluous drumbeats,
Constantly off-key;
The dried skin on the bongo is stretched too thin.


The dishwasher’s opera;
Featured on a socialist stage;
Sponsored by the youngest marketeer in company history;
Old stage hands are outsourced,
They are too aged for the use of hipsters.


Censored and muted,
Clerical prudes sexualize trite normality.
Paradoxically,
they ignore that non-authoritative rebellion itself,
arouses childish spirits;


In their mission to shame,
righteousness effectively bands together outcasts,
In shame they find their brotherhood.
Perhaps ulterior methods,
Necessities for hypnotizing the seated masses,
Are in order.


Tongues wag through polluted air,
Splitting body and lust,
Atomizing restraint,
Propagating animalistic regression,
Touching irrationality,
Emboldening the slumbering spirit;
Though time and choice are appreciable concepts,
But rarely appreciated.


Unsatisfactorily bathed in contentment,
The boogyman looms undeterred;
The town crier sings the praise of this Minotaur.
Fictitious, but not quite,
reasoned by metaphysics conceived in quackery.
Fables and their nightmarish parables,
Underworlds strangely resurrect themselves.


The Seductive temptation to empathize,
To make poverty rule wealth,
which form...?
That is a matter of continuous debate;
The lack of initiative, however, is conspicuously apparent;
Classical rebellion for its own sake,
Predictable, like a sunrise or adolescent impudence.


Why ask questions we wish to ignore?