For our New Order Money Media
OUR SATANIC VERSES
Oh sleep my little daughters you are not alone,
Daddy is guarding you against the cruel roam—
Of our satans who would harm you and make you cry—
We suckled them on sugared fat and Satan’s mad eye.
Sly Nick gloats in the corner—I’ve pulled his plug out--
But that never can blunt Nick's snuffling pig snout;
He smarms and cajoles his pupils to harm you--
So then he can broadcast More Satanic Bad News;
What’s wrong with our people—where are our brains?
We are pushed round like pigs—fattened and tamed.
We cop-out by rejoicing we are not Satan's yet--
Squawking "It's up to the individual!"--then our weakest Nick rips ;
Thus Satan bosses our lonely piggy old age,
When our children--Satan's piggies--vent satanic piggy rage.

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poems poet poetry of Brian Evans