Labor of Love

In the West Wing cupboard
he had it up her ass
no more quim for him
the incontinent whore
had already shit out one
illegitimate twat upon the Earth
and he’d cotton no more
“You’re my warrior
my brave, brave warrior,” Nan said
“Stick that spear in me
stab me deep, warrior Warren,”
the slut
reminding him
the aspersions on his heritage
fuck the KKK
there wasn’t a negroidal dram
in his bloody veins
but bawdy bitch Britton
gave him an idea
as he mined the depths of her colon
he’d send in the troops
federal warriors
to properly fuck
those whining West Virginian miners
slaughter the striking coal rats
O, God! he could picture it
their faces stained black
bullet holes like gaping cunts
red dead
driven into their heads
oh, oh, yes, yes…
as he thought it
he shot it
into her dark depths
Gamaliel goo gushing
Harding’s Hard-on
delivering his solution
a tactical movement
against greedy unionizing bastards
pleased, he withdrew
his forward force from her rear
wiped clean upon the harlot’s skirt
and stepped proud
out of the closet
a man – free, white
and ready to fight

Tags: 19th infantry, matewan, nan britton, poem, poems, poetry, striking miners, union busting, warren g harding, warren harding, west virginia