STRANGE BEDFELLOWS
See them walk;
See them talk;
See them laugh in the groaning of chivalric spiritedness:
The three strange bed fellows of the times,
Dancing the melodrama of unification.
One would wonder
Why they even fallow in the same bed.
With the stench of their breath so wide;
The extreme poles of the north and south put together,
Are the beginning of an unending fervour.
See! the framework of their goals are different;
Yet interelated.
The concretes and elements of their foundations are divergent;
Yet convergent.
It is these that have come to rock the space of this times,
Morethan any machine merchandise of the age.
I am the church of this age;
Set up with the maxims of capitalism and mixgrill-manipulations.
In me is scriptural theology redesigned to suit the bloating skills of the brethren-business.
The machine of economic returns and god-lie,
Fixed to the gallows of prime greedily.
This is for systematic board-returns,
What the age calls ROI.
The smell and fumes of their phlegms have got me irritated,
Beyond the stinky pogrom of the soak-aways.
My words are ready:
Calmly restless with the potent instrument of the writer.
I am the school!
All manner of greedy men have lay hold of me.
They have so used me to plunge the poor in the land;
In the name of helping them secure good education,
Technically chirping innocency and raking more to the vault.
This have further redefined capitalism;
The absurdist capitalism.
The whole city is escalated:
Littering the streets with rogues and ardent drop outs.
This is the contra-general missiles awaiting to explode.
I am the hotels!
Designed to brothel the less and undersucking girls of priviledges.
Well its not by coercion,
But persuadedly a condition of recession.
Its a shame you know?
For this has become a norm in the land.
Young boys and girls as low as twelve,
Now find themselves in the tantrum holes of the brothels.
Picture sourced from google
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