To resign and shuffle off to the peace of the farm,

leaving the sheep in charge of spraying

on the graffiti declaring pig propaganda,

is now seen as the new leadership,

the firm control and guidance required

in 21^st Century

short attention span

management.

I resign in that case, I throw my towel in

to the wolves, baying for blood, baying

for the next willing victim, baying

for the sake of hearing their own howl

and piss in the wind…patience

is dead, it departed when playing games

became the norm, in the do over and the redo;

because nothing counts anymore,

history is not just bunk,

history is dead.

I resign myself to history,

I resign my thoughts to the fire

for this is no Animal Farm

in which we live in,

we are all in the Abattoir

dancing with the pigs.

 

Ian D. Hall 2016