Horse Riders of the Political Apocalypse – A Poem

The horse riders of political death echo,
Misty canyons of time cannot repel.
This democratic death machine,
As it rattles on.

South to north,
All through the land.
The obvious is seen,
Screaming and sobbing.
Hell fire on roller skates!

Blithering stupidity on a mass scale,
Milton could never do it justice.

Nor I on this misty winters night,
Could have imagined the horse riders,
Of the Political Apocalypse.

Their pink batts, school halls,
That bespectacled grin.

Whose fame and fortune,
Was paid for in part,
By neo-liberal sin.

Grant me reprieve Oh Lord,
The agnostic christian.
The spiritual pagan,
Cannot conceive.
The appalling strangeness,
Of the Horse Riders,
Of the Political Apocalypse. 

Timothy W. Humphries is a poet and Assistant Managing Editor 
at Menzies House