6-3 6-3: A Pantoum

As barbarism combs the land,

who can save this decaying nation?

From those petty fascists now at hand,

rife with hatred and frustration.

Who can save this decaying nation,

wrought with heartache by those ghoulish souls;

rife with hatred and frustration,

and whence, my dear, Democracy folds?

Wrought with heartache by those ghoulish souls;

those theocratic reactionaries.

And whence, my dear, Democracy folds;

libraries will turn to cemeteries.

Those theocratic reactionaries;

they’re armed with guns and abortion bans.

Libraries will turn to cemeteries,

but we’ll obey no treacherous commands.

They’re armed with guns and abortion bans,

as barbarism combs the land;

but we’ll obey no treacherous commands,

from those petty fascists now at hand.

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