Made to Milk It

Virtue’s dairy-maids take a bow;
Such maids, the farm can well-endow
To milk that multi-culti cow.
Paste some banner upon your page . . .
You belong to a nicer age
An age where conflict is suppressed
And truth can never be addressed.
Malign diversity enforced
Upon the masses—who resist;
Their own prosperity outsourced
Maintaining aliens in their midst.


Just one more haiku
for the road—I mean, the hike
down April Mountain

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