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
