Flat Tax

Super fight!

Bite the blighting 

sights of mights 

making rights

and thrifting

a rifting

through bored 

sock drawers

and pockets 

locked and leaking 

to floors. 

All my money,

Honey,

Was paid to people

ready to take

and left a wake

of a constitutional glitch

to scratch an itch

of a long numb bottom

that's been plumping

for a decade now. 

One day 

a fair display

will pay

a price

that's nicer

than spliced

mites

limiting heights

and reaches 

beseeched

to speeches 

of outside smiles

and inside biles

digesting 

another's intestine. 

The brass breaking

of convoluted tax taking

rakes too many fakes

through the think forks splay

and roasts another's egg

and the plague grounds increase. 

Why can't we care

for simple and fair

instead of pimples

and glares

of maybe you's

and not me's. 

We flee the fleas

yet the tree's roots

boot our basic banter

to chanters

who shant

rant against

the pretence

because it's hard to lift mountains. 

Lift up eyes

and prizes worth fighting for

and door needed to explore

and save jobs and money

and lands milked for honey

and breathe a fair breath

of stressless death

for a flat rate

congregate

that increases value. 

Shall you?

Shall I?

or will April 15th

always make us cry?