Piss Pot Politics

I was bored and had nothing to do,

So, I went today to the little town of Podipattu to hear the speech of a local polituttoo.

There he stood, high above us, dressed in pure virtuous white,

ready to spout his peremptorious piss on us below.

The crowds clapped and cheered, full of fire.

I pledge, I swear, I truly care.

He would read from I was sure; a rhetoric script of black and grey.

But then, isn’t that what the people had come to hear?

Today I ask for your support, and not your votes,

Said the polituttoo with a shiny smile.

You deserve more than just a choice between descentric bloodlines and devoted bhakts,

where one’s a thief and the other, a thug.

I will not promise you temples or a war,

nor quarantined quotas while keeping you chained,

to religion, caste and class.

The crowds clapped less with confused cheers.

I have felt the cries of the farmer echo through my soul,

when he slashed his wrists against the plough.

Each drop of his blood was a bullet through my heart.

No more shall I use you as a stepping stone to my throne.

I will not waive your loans or throw you a bone for just a vote alone.

I will give you the means, the tools and respect to grow on your own.

The crowds went silent, this was not the deal, a few left to eat their free meals.

No more shall I wear thongs of fascism under my dhoti of democracy,

I will end the rein of the remote-controlled mobs,

unhinged and twisted in mutated self-righteous savagery.

No more shall I use them to break the finger that rises against me,

While slipping on gold-plated rings on the thumbs raised up.

“Today I only offer you my brothers and sisters, an India of hope. And I need your support.”

The crowds now booed, and jeered, calling him a liar.

The polituttoo then laughed and said with a wink, “Mitroon, APRIL FOOL!!”

The crowds now laughed and cheered, full of fire.