Swiss Cheese

From the River of Prawns to that of blood

And I wonder when the tyrant would stop

His blood bath and forfeit shitting on top

Of olive branch holding patriots in broad

Daylight before taking delight in flight

With the state’s coffers to hide in the Alps

Where cheese meets wine in the mouth and melts down

As our demands are met with a crackdown

Which we are told is stroking itchy scalps

To harden the heart of the excellent

Thief in chief who raids and kills innocence

And turns around to decree sweet nonsense

With chants of his acts being a repellent

Which wrong we must, by right, fight to right.

11-30—12-01/2016