'How Bloody Much'

By Makis
- 105 reads
I'm rooted to the forecourt, deathly pale
My senses stunned and my faculties frail
The pump clicks off with haunting sound
As my knees give way to shock profound
The numbers rotated with heartless glee
Revolving relentlessly with callous esprit
Twenty pounds, forty, seventy and more
Surely, it has never been like this before
My heart rate jumps as I grasp my chest
Is this candid camera, a mischievous test
It must be a heist, or a duplicitous crime
So I grab my phone and stab at the nine
'Please get me the police?' I cry out loud,
Immediately attracting a watchful crowd
'They're robbing me blind without a care
Taking far more than a reasonable share.'
An officer answers and demands I explain
So I tell him of petrol and pecuniary pain
How I'd fallen victim to a deceitful gambit
When cruelly duped by a one armed bandit
The constable sighs and confirms all's well
That prices are lofty due to a shady cartel
Relishing the news that an orange juvenile
Has started a war to evade the Epstein file
'Here we go again,' I responded to the man,
'What we'll soon require is an insurance plan
Against hiking prices on the flimsiest whim
Making fuel too expensive to fill to the brim.'
My debit card bilked at payment approved
Being duped, milked and heinously abused
I fled fellow victims facing avaricious pump
Cursing the name of Donald Bloody Trump
The orange bloviator, king of uncouth, whose
Imbecilic folly closed the 'Straits of Vermouth'
Lies to the world while gurning like a ghoul
As we all pay ransom for our tank full of fuel
So let's look forward to the coming mid-terms
When voters reject this corrupt can of worms
A revulsion of Trump and his gang will prevail
Indicting them speedily into Fulton County Jail
Yippee!
Audio file: https://1drv.ms/u/c/4db44a4d6b88c854/IQDQnIwVs9fBSam7CwQhI1Y7AYK6f6i3hdY...
Image free to use by Dola
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Comments
Count yourself lucky you don
Count yourself lucky you don't rely on heating oil!
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Well put and funny, but with
Well put and funny, but with serious undertones. Enjoyed
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fun will begin when motorists
fun will begin when motorists can't get fuel at any price.
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Like there was during Covid.
Like there was during Covid.
I read JG Ballard's novel High Rise in the 70's and it's all too credible how quickly what we call 'civilization' would break down.
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They'll have to get the
They'll have to get the Strait of Hormuz opened up soon to get those tankers carrying Pete Hegseth's hair oil through.
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