Dance Puppet Dance

Non stop traffic congestion
Jams every concrete artery
Slams the nerves against the windshield
Trapped between the metal and the glass
And the palpable insanity

Profanities slip out without notice
For the desperate rush
Day after day mental crush
To get to the other end
And for what?

A perverse pleasure for the
Constant political two-step
Worn with pretty smiles
While the machete is lodged
Between the third and fifth vertebrae

and the ridiculous requirement
to seek redemption in procedures
and counterfeit personnel
with incessant malice and guile

And all the while
The bullshit covers the truth
And the truth becomes the bullshit