The one four zero firing squad,
In characters, cut on the bias;
Judge and jury, fury fuelled
Unsubtle, show
There’s none so blind as
What believed becomes
I know
And what is paid attention grows
To bind the mind
To preconception –
Each direction bound for Rome.
They seek them here; they seek them there
And register signs everywhere
To personalise in tones
That suffocate and trivialise the greater play
And woe betide all messengers –
Well, they would say that,
Wouldn’t they…
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