High on the hog, mule-
heads and handlers meet
in a Manhattan hotel—
Operatives, confidential informants,
Mouthpieces for fruit companies
and death squads hold court—
Harnessing left motion
sliding
down
the
Hill
Feeling the Bern
Stop! In the name of love
Before you break my heart
Think it over…
The mule’s a stubborn
kinda fella—ass
with big ears that
Hear your every word,
while hiding a mind
of his own
Many men and women
moved the mule
Left—
years later, finding
They, themselves, moved
Right—
running in place…
mired in mule dung—
Who’s moving who?