(after Horace)

Lauridia and Harmonia
Are political figures
Of the left hand path
Election riggers.
Maddened by wrath,
With Sapphic intent
Lauridia the younger
Calls on Harmonia
The termagant.
Together they walk
To a cemetery
Within a dark forest
Taking one they mean to bury
Alive, the boy, Horace.

Keen for a wheeze
He happily agrees
Till sudden suspicions
Of the two politicians
Journalist and minister
Spark fear of intentions
Dark and sinister.
Lest he be harmed
The lad, alarmed,
Cries out and sings.

They bid him be not nervous
And stay silent for the service.

They use in their rites
Disgusting modern things
The head of a cat
A broken vibrator
Turds that an aids patient shat
Used toilet paper
Genetically modified soy…

Beneath the waning moon
Cackling with mirth
They tie up the boy
And place him in earth
Hellish looking
Black and capillary,
With spirit cooking
Taught them by Hillary.

Lauridia bewails her loss
As tearfully as she can
“Why has my lover left me?
Is she in bed with a man?
Is he kissing her under her nose
Or underneath the archway
Where Wilhelmina grows?”
She curses, proclaiming her notion
That compounding a magical potion
Made from Horace’s dried liver
Could make her ex
Love her again.
She heaps imprecations
On the whole male sex.

At last the boy, of hope bereft
Curses them back.
“Foul hags of the left
Witches of darkest night
There are laws against this
Know you not wrong from right?
This is paedophilia
I have father and mother
And also a brother
Who surely will kill you!”

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