Witness scanted borders that welcome – ay the unhoused guiltless
but too oft masking varlets, felons, rapers, traitors and slaves
and far too many far eastern young men got-aways.
Who be the arrant snollygosters and busky brachs that bettle o’er us?
those swag-bellied clodpoles that hold carelessly our trust
allowing our leaky borders to bust, doth giveth us mugs the shank?
The grumbletons have awak’nd are alarum’d and formed ranks,
to the dastards they shout “Bite My Thumb” for they are quite quanked.
To look upon such shortage of quick mettle, calls to be settled;
this slubbering seems a plan, it must not stand, being the work of the devil . . .
(The Random Poet:08222023 – based on excerpt from “Lawless Disorder”
www.therandompoet.com)
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