
Defending to a Loaded Gun by Sarah Bellum Mental
They open doors to white supremacy terrorists invited in like it’s tea time at the White House while my love runs to catch a train in New York and has
They open doors to white supremacy terrorists invited in like it’s tea time at the White House while my love runs to catch a train in New York and has
Waves of stupidity slam the shore, lost blobfish bouncing from the depths to blubber. A flash of lightning in Confederate red falls to thunder, blood rose blooming over her cradled
Watching the twang of America on T.V. nipping at the heel chords, the tendons, the porous ruins of a Country’s bones, the Coup the busts of Con- federates in the
They wear war paint Of red, white and blue. Wave flags From a bloodied past. Shout battlecries That claim false truths. Spurred on by a man They idolise. A man
Bare-chested, face-painted, KKK-tattooed, Viking-horned, raccoon-hatted trespasser poses for photo in the Senate chamber standing behind the Vice President’s flag-draped dais with velvet curtains behind and “E Pluribus Unum” on the
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