Notes 📝 1984

Given a chance I'll stare
out the window
at the gray day
in its every detail.  

My bedroom window
looks down to a couple
of red & blue houses on the corner,
I see the blemishes,
and then think nothing of it ever.  

Except,

Trumpsters are nothing
but a bunch of shit-eating
lipstick wearing pigs
that woke out of an Orwell
novel as today's half Prole,
half Outer Party society,  
each of them keeping
to the right pitch
of thier Inner orthodox.   

I too wish that they
weren't so stupid
as to get into fights
over the tin pans.

I love them, but they're like pigs!
calling all the sheep
a bunch of filthy animals.  

Deeply American.