Lone Star

My stare fells bigotry,
Tongue drips disdain,
Tone, contempt.
You meant
To incite.
Not an equal fight.
But I’m bored so
Bring your thesaurus!
Burn you backwater
Idols at the altar of
Willy-Brandt-Straße and
Charlotte Square.
Stare at the skirts whose
Minds consume your
Feeble fulminations.
Socrates is turning
in his grave!
Stay in your safe
Slay your fake
Dragons, like children
with plastic warriors,
As I move my Queen
Into check.

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