Buy Partisan (a disconnected dichotomy)

Beware of the dapper Dans
with that Jack the Ripper look
impeccably dressed in their three piece
black and white, pin striped seersucker suits,
flashing their red, white and crystal blue eyes
sporting toothy smiles and the oily black
coiled curls of a Medusa hairdo.

There is a scent of blackness
like the stench of death
wafting in the airwaves of America
where nasty promises and threats
are chiseled in classless cutlass,
letting facts fade into fiction
as mass media mixes truth
with facetious, fatuous, fallacies of fantasy
espoused by the con-men political pundits
to evoke the emersion of diversion
and division among the masses.

These are the resurgence of insurgents
who claim to have climbed
an elite trail of tiers
a stairway of steps etched
on shifting sand dunes
of makeshift phenomena
created by political propaganda.

They sound like motivational speakers
using words in stowed tort strophes
presented in an ion exchange
of incomprehensible ideas
stored in the root starch closet
of spa crouching treason
as they sidestep the feckless design
of spare moment footnotes
exceed the speed  of isolation
the incessant glitch of stamina
sapped from the veins of Americans
that emanates from living
the video-taped lives and lies
of Norman Rockwell Mailer caricatures.