#NoVemberNoRemember

November:  "Forth!"  Walk over eight bodies, walk like zombies, take to the streets!
In "numbers" lies your dubious strength - that's numb-ers, innured to mourning, as to the reasoning of logic or of heart; might over mind - nothing matters, even your might a mere maybe.

Cult of Communist-Wannabes, Sect of the Surreal, so-called "Anti"fa, fascist to the marrow in your loathsome Festival of Loathing.  Eight murdered washed under the bridge of collective narcissistic autism draping itself post-Hallowe'en in self-righteous Trump-bashing, hitting the Manhattan streets with the redundant clatter of empty chatter - doesn't matter.

Jihad reality matters a naught,
children as pedo-booty matters a naught,
unity in national identity  and defending democracy
suffer your mockery - you're all quite some lot!

I take to a bucket and fill it with sick when I observe the cynical hysteria of your staged
and foul movement, a bowel movement is more pleasant.

One demonstrator mashed in Charlottesville you hype in manipulated heroism like a false flag;
hundreds shot down at a Vegas concert you brush off - wrong flag;
eight mowed down on your own streets - with an IS flag:
and all three are "Trump's doing" - you are all stewing in your own dry, frothing juices.
And I thank God daily that Hillary'd lost, as have you all.  I rejoice at not having her "empathy", as I rejoice at being one of Merkel's "cold-hearted".

I see in Austin this same day, how your jaws drop and your empty slogans go slack in your
raspy throats, how your arms go limp, limp like your spines - when once outnumbered
by normal patriotic citizens who are no wannabes, just themselves - supporting a President they'd voted.