NaPoWriMo #18

I started this poem April 17.  (I could not get WordPress to do the proper spacing for the last line, so I had to add underscores to get it where I wanted it.)

Bitter Chill

I hold back
my equal opportunity profanities,
shout the universe unfair
knowing it has too much time
to listen to the cry.

Sickened to see that
housing the revolution is worth
three months off the dole almost exactly.

Experience is a flaw.
You want the fresh and new
unqualified ideas
political wrangling strangling
the hard-won freedom of the little group.

You forget  forget
what temptation power makes.
You pushed out the tyranny of two
only to let the vacuum pull in
the machinations of unstable unknowns
angry like we all are angry
jabbing their fingers like questions
twisting words into bylaws
or demanding vessels for their wants.

Fed up.
Get your act together,
or you’ll deserve the downfall
__________________________you get.

© 2014 by Robin A. Sams

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