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Poems of Mac McAnear
The White Horse

There the man on the White Horse
Rippling muscles shining through fabric of his tunic
Calm eyes looking at the desolate landscape ahead
Wrapped in cheers of those behind urging him on!
Certain he is that no force can stop his appointed rounds!
For on his side are Chicanery, Wiliness, and to anchor Gall!
Not the first but greatest coup d’etat elevated to Emperor of the World!
A culmination of the spirit exhibited by those crafty, willing men
Acting decisively to rid the world of naïve cowards
(Who believed in live and let live) in a fatal game
Begun audaciously on November 22, l963, in a well-placed spot of calumny
Continued by those Patriots noted for law-breaking acts
During the ludicrous reign of a celluloid hero who lost his mind.
Long live this bastardized version of  elitism
This pea-brain, this whoreson of American Corporate Life,
This mangy Longhorn destined for the dust-bin of History!

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