The Magashocky

By Stafford Battle

Electric vibes crank smooth God blaze,

Miles Horn is smoking a plunky plume,

No cotton, no ditches, no sweaty highways,

Shango is zipping a thunderous swoon.

“My friend, be  calculated  crossing the street,

Squares screech, masked madness  stings;

Metal bars, crooked laws, political freaks,

Black, brown, yellow, red lists crash righteous bings.”

With cautious critique, my friend glocked his glands,

Piercing carefully to scream redacted fans;

Danger, danger, hooded whackers leap!

Flaring flags, paddy posts, vicious votes, bland beats!

Malcom, Martin, Marcus, Marion, many more,

Set aflame sweet super shaft salacious score;

The Shock is subdued, yet merely asleep,

Dig, dig deeper for reconstruction bleep.

“Hurray, hurray, we won one Great day.

Now, you know the Magashocky, my friend;

The roar of ancestral waves cascades within;

But always obstacles nova our way.”

Electric vibes crank smooth God blaze,

Miles Horn is smoking a plunky plume,

No cotton, no ditches, no sweaty highways,

Shango is zipping a thunderous swoon.

Beware the rise of the  Magashocky.

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