thanks, arctic air
for ever so slightly squinting southerly
hinting at cooler climes
less sweltering soddenness
the promise of comity
sorely lacking in the mingy mien
of budget hawks
their hot talons
tearing at the populace
as the oligarchy caviar crowd
whine about why
not more for me
it's mine
mine mine
how taxing
and tiresome
the tip of the iceberg
the country club cabal
plots its permanence
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