creation myth

There’s a baby awake in its crib tonight / lit by the glow of an orange moonlight / as it screams and it squalls / falls / and then rapidly crawls / to bust through the baby gate and hurry outdoors / where it wails and it cries / and doubles and triples, quadruples in size / till it comes in at just under half the weight / of America’s annual shipping freight / and sits on the docks / to throw buses and rocks / at the TV crews and armoured cops / who demand support from the air force and navy / and a SWAT team of specialists who know about babies

There’s a baby abroad in the world today / who demands that everything goes its way / and punishes countries who refuse to play / while it stuffs vast quantities of shares and stocks / in its monstrous diaper and knitted socks / and drinks the seas dry and sleeps on the rocks / while the wild wind whistles / and the bushfires bristle / and it wakes to catch a volley of missiles / that it stuffs in its mouth / and chews and chews and chews about / and then lifts a leg and shits the bits out

There’s a baby abroad in the world – it’s true / and it doesn’t like me, and it doesn’t like you / as it keeps whole populations awake / with the horrible mewling and moaning it makes / chasing the multiple frauds and fakes / it blames for the terrible mess in its wake / then finally in one great fit of pique / to prove its power is wonderfully unique / it rips up the Trump Tower in Manhattan / twirls it round its head like a baton / suddenly thrusts it deep in the ground / then flips the entire world upside down / (Nostredamus predicted this very battle / when the Earth gets used as a giant rattle)

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