When state’s declared supreme
Common we are cored,
With skin intact we’re steamed,
Hand in hand folk lured.
Sliced and sauced in streams,
Sugared, then implored
To merge with men of means
Collectivized, adored.
A brotherhood it seems,
Is common at our core,
Where supermen alone
May only run the store.
Cucumber Lodge 
Great poem! Especially like these lines:
“A brotherhood it seems,
Is common at our core,
Where supermen alone
May only run the store.”
Reblogged this on Postmodern Mud.
Reblogged this on Cucumber Lodge.