Sometimes we muster by the millpond
with broomhandles, storming imaginary desert compounds,
moving room to room - everybody on the floor! -
dispatching hostiles.
We are very nice;
we pay our taxes on time and in full.
We post Christmas cards to people
who post Christmas cards back.
We hand in lost wallets
and do not expect rewards.
And sometimes,
we pretend to kick shit through society,
the Lord Mayor dropping in a geyser of ichor,
helicopters circling town hall
like fat bluebottles.
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