crystal ball toting gypsies
cry cataclysm and none heed
as cassandra nods in ardent
sympathy and odd redemption.
call it age or wisdom
chalk it up to experience,
but I know what I know and
that I cannot know it all.
i threw away my soothsayer’s
tools, seeing clearly that
in your pride you’ll gladly
wallow in the dread luxury
throw us all under a red
double decker for the sake
of trampled feelings; an
injury we can not indulge
grow up, grow a pair, this
election is ours to lose
with ramifications beyond
our meager lifespans.
Praying for Eyebrowz 