Let the Games End

to the game we call politics—
no don’t take a seat.  It’s
standing room only, now
go mill about.
come the players; they’re bringing
the heat.
Benchwarmers all, so you’d better watch
No teams,
rest assured it’s an individual sport.
(Though knowing glances are exchanged
and hands are hidden
beneath the table.)
Stakes are high, tempers flare in this court.
comes the point where
they all try to label
those seated around them with
syrupy slander.
Scattered about
are the
few bona fide.  They’re
covered in labels—just take one gander,
overlooked in the corner
crooks sit
genocide by side.

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Because Russ L asked

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