The Old Fools Club
Poem By Duane Robert Pierson
Life failures all,
in their youth
draft dodgers every one,
they send young men to die,
turn youth to bombs
destroying accursed infidels.
Blessed with a direct line to God,
they hold the keys to paradise,
dictating for us a rigid order for living.
Their mediocre ignorant brains churn
conceit, vanity, and arrogance,
into phony compassion featuring
goofy rituals promising rapture,
eternity in the company of fools
from their taut jowls
like foam from a rabid dog’s muzzle.
Their great fear is that somewhere
someone might be happy,
having a good time.
They wear patriarchal titles
providing the cover of deified sanctity,
declaring pater familias,
vitae necisque potestas.
With limp dicks and rigid minds
they protect women
from evil and sin,
saving bitches from terrible thoughts
only they themselves repress within.