Context is the casualty of the constant “oh, humanity”s
Of the cohort of the Pharisees of this broke age.
Concepts like cold sanity fade in heated faux humility
In the cloth-eared cloistered malady of bespoke rage.
Constrained by their fallacies come a thousand fraught
apologies
From a hundred caught-out Socrates in the courtroom.
Consecrated effigies made for bonfires of false vanity
Feed the hungry, maddened Manichees’ lost proportion.
Concern turns to calumny just as fast as last week’s
amnesty
On poor broken panicked Salomes fades to nowhere.
Content created casually makes a martyr far more rapidly
Than the lately feted banishee can manoeuvre.
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