Cryptic crumbs of plots obliquely stated;
Kernels of God’s truth, elucidated,
Pop, explode, and puff the expanding corn
To be salted, served; Patriotic hope-porn:
Deplorable decentralized dissent
Lamentable, to some, in its ascent.
Miners of uncertain deep-state rumors,
Fake news-media loathes these balding boomers.
Nervously, they watch Q’s paunchy patrons
And monitor with scorn suburban matrons:
Subverters of the state, in baseball caps . . .
A joke to most, a threat to some, perhaps.
Q’s troublemakers fly triumphant banners
And agitate, with humble heartland manners.
The movement grows and mutates through new phases,
Evolving in numerological mazes.
where one decoder goes, they would go all,
restoring us to Eden from the Fall.
And suddenly the Media has fits
because some Q-tard’s YouTube gets more hits
Than all their propaganda-shows combined.
(in spite of all their fake news had designed)
Thus Q has blown, through half-coherent screeds,
The cover for the wicked and their deeds.