Loaf

It isn’t a loaf or a slice

of bread that

feeds me

It is the fate of the masses

that tanges the napalm spirit of my soul

Into an ire and not a fire of leanabout fieltude to the Queen

Of Sheba by name and not by shorn

For she has not the grace and favour to beget the final fool

her say is the end

The end

The end of all term and terminate build of all

For it is all that shall come and

It is all that shall come out

For all shall come and all shall come but nowt

Shall fall without there being a new and an old

Called the life and song of the

Party.

Copyright 2016 Bruce E Saunders

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