Nick Clegg
with an oboe between his legs
approaches from a cavalcade of dominating dregs.
with an oboe between his legs
approaches from a cavalcade of dominating dregs.
“You cannot betray those who do not wish to be betrayed,” he says,
waylaid with gold and fake tan sprays.
His mouth stuffed,
his mind chuff,
his soul, neoliberal dandruff
engenders at first a state disbelief.
But as righteous urges subside
you notice,
Clegg has only half lied.
The dominant can only sell out the supplicant...
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