Clarion

Lull

Return to dull, the lull before the vote.
These primary voices on their lunch-hour shout
the same gamut when young we belted out,
far paraphrases, futures with no quote.

All is in the air - Tabloids churn out lies;
twanging their ignorant strings, they jeer
propped straw monsters - our innards we should fear,
as speckled butterflies chase across grey skies.