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An important choice for every one to face
It was time for the mid term race
It was the crunch, the monster munch

Discarded on the floor like the multitudinous female voices, crumpled by the Southern strategy

It was the crunch, it was the monster munch

The mini dictator, underestimate him at your peril, even St. Andrew couldn’t ward off this devil

Yet the natives are in the house, red is now blue, the monster munch (pickled onion?) lies forlorn, shorn of purpose, nothing to do, no one to munch it

It is the crunch, the monster punch

Copyright John de Gruyther 2018

My first collection of poems are available now –https://amzn.to/2DpD1KX

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