FanStory.com - Am I Missing Somethingby E Lloyd Kelly
Exceptional
This work has reached the exceptional level
Voter perils are lurking lazily under poling fingers.
Am I Missing Something by E Lloyd Kelly
Poem of the Month contest entry

Hey! Why are you all looking at me like that? Am I missing something here? Am I missing something? Anyways!
 
The convergence of the mighty minds, and the elitest of the elites of mankind, were arguing it out. This side was there making a mocking fool out of that side’s clout.
 
One was at a loss as to why the other’s boss had gotten it all so very wrong, in class. Arguing yet the more about the letter and the law, and about the real meaning, and spirit of the longtime draft that they drew, on the draw.
 
As you already know; the law is the law, and no one is above it, not him, not her. But you also know that; I’m really, really rich, and can afford to buy her some whipping switch.
 
So said the one at the top of the glitch. “We’ll see. We’ll see.” Yet they argued on about this, and that. About what the framers of those very laws samer, must have thought, when they were writing it down, and would have etched it in class.
 
From hundreds upon thousands of years ago, “they’re long dead though.” But, “what was their thinking when those same laws were being framed and fenced in?” Asked some of them over here on this siding.
 
All the while, though, those of high profile were there defending on one side, or amending on the other, to try and send some other “some-ones” somewhere through the turnstiles, on the border. Especially those “some-ones” who were known to have lied, stolen, and cheated, among many other awful vices that were well known and documented that she did, or was it he, him?”
 
“Well, same thing.”
 
Increasing foul-play along the way. From the very first day of the stepping in of their first right feet, so it would have seemed. Or even the wrong one to eat, seasoned with beans.
 
“Or was it the head instead? Could’ve been that you know, no?”
 
“Yes, Ned, yes, but… “ still lying on the bed, was he. The one who was known to have bragged around somewhere in town. Talking about such deeds long done, or even those that could yet be done in times to come. Without anyone stopping his gun.
 
So spoke he openly out there in the streets. Never even bothered to think a stink thought to tone it down in parts. Even when the thermostat was getting turned up really hot, to get heated yet the more at that spot. Yes, on the headship of his kindred up top.
 
The council of councilors were known to have begged him when they said it to her clients via the hearing aids, yes, as said, they would have begged. Begging him to refrain from the speaking game.
 
Said it to him just before praying them off to bed again. “You’re unwell,” they said, “and you, can’t help yourself. So, go on up to sleep on the topmost bunk bed, and don’t forget to cover your feet with the spread.” They pleaded and begged. But…
 
Eloquent was the one who stood upon a stand in front of a frenzied admiring clan. Yes, the cheering fans were there prodding him on. As he lied straight long ties - sorry, I meant to say, face. Lied straight-faced, to no one’s distaste, oh what a disgrace.
 
But, “just in case they should stick a microphoned camera in your face tomorrow. Say nothing more than this to her; we did nothing wrong; we did nothing wrong.” 
Yet they argued on about this, and that. They and their highly placed able-bodied man up top, “we did the same thing as you and yours had done. 
They would have wronged them too, nothing more than that one or two, times the sum. Nothing wrong with that, nor with you, my son. So, tell me, how come?
 
Why has no one from among them been called in for any form of reprimand? No accountability was to be found coming at hand, Dan. Not even one such as you’re now calling for, from these our highly-placed men of war. Therefore, this is a hoax, this is a farce, fake news, and the rest of the arts.
 
But, as for us, we are instructing everyone under our immediate command; not to be found cooperating with anyone. Not you, nor them, not with the sleuth of your demands, (count ten.) 
If the cooperators should go and cooperate? Then, we’re going to have to open up the floodgate and call them out straight. Those from over there on your side of the plate who, (just like us,) did nothing wrong on the bus. They too, did nothing wrong.
 
Not even that which they would have done when they did it in a like manner as our very own, no. They did nothing wrong when they did those things. Nothing that they would want to hide from anyone, so it would have seemed. Same as how we didn’t do it over here on our side of the pew stand, near the podium beam.
 
But come they must, just like us. They must also come and testify about all the right things that they, (just like us,) did do. 
Or even the wrong ones that both of us on either side of the bus stand near the commons, did not do. Neither them, nor us. “True?”
 
“True.”
 
This one over here, though, has got overwhelming evidence to show. He was to swear so, and then go, yes. Gone running off to the picture show, saying that he was going to use it all to prove that; what he’d said that that one had abused and did, is true. “She is culpable, like you, and you ought to have her removed.”
 
Although, I really would appreciate it if you were to show me some more of those facts, and things. Yes, those fat facts that you’ve got lots of over there under locks, and hiding.” 
But that one would not. Because, “these facts,” he said, “are all that we’ve got here, mi bred, and it’s all that we’ll ever need to put ourselves in the clear.
 
These facts are here to prove that, ‘we are aware of your hiccups and the pack you’d signed from way back, and of course, we did nothing wrong, we did nothing wrong.’ 
We’re not like you and your ‘such man’ friends who, (on the other hand,) can’t ever seem to be able to get anything right, come on, come on, come on. 
Not even the other side of your left-handed bills that you right. Nor the articles that you would have wronged when you’d set out to write out our wrongs.”
 
So went on those educated ones. Well, nothing wrong with that part yah yardman, nothing at all. Except for the buttoning up of the bottom lines that was hanging off his hip joint above the bottomless pit point, at the time. That which he’s just about to fall into quick -  ointe! "Yeah man. Headlong he went, to the fall in it."
So said the top-most third of the Tiers of the wisest of the wise men here.
 
The same also came from among the elites over there. 
None was able, though, to bridge the gap or shorten the divide that exists and persist up until this, between the two, too many sides. 
But this one over here has got the perfect solution clear, and the answer is holed up in his sweaty hands bare. 
Which came down to just one, as I was to hear. Yes, which turned out, (as it must,) to be just this one on the bus.
 
“Let’s leave it up to the voters.” So he said to the camera as it was turning up in his gaze about hers. And hence, was readying the telling team to get him in on the news, and then out again to be on the front page of the Post, wrapping up the views. While being seen out there posing. On the media spheres in a couple of days, enclosed in, just over there, you hear?
 
Well, of course, “let’s leave it up to ‘the voters,’ to decide there-in.” To quote ours. So he said and lied again, in my hearing. And I was like, “what did I just miss, what did I miss? What do we make of that and this? What did I miss?” Again, I had to ask and hissed, because... 
In a situation such as this, I couldn’t help but to hiss at the Abyss, and wondered out loud from the backside of my speech. “What did I miss, what did I miss?”
 
“We’ve got to trust the voters,” they say, “to make the right decision on this one-sided, busted right left punch of a left-handed play, right?”
 
“Right.”
 
“And why is that?” Someone was heard asking a-mocked, yes. Mocking the answer that was quick in coming back from the elitest of the educated pack.
 
“It’s because,” came the answer rolling into them fast. "It’s because; like the paying customer in business class does and do? The voter in politics too, is always right, “isn’t that right?”
 
“Right.”
 
Well, of course, he’s right. He has surely got the right, as well as the left foot of the shoe ma-ight, and the power too. It’s all there in his right hand, wearing the wrong shoe. By the shower, that’s who, and in the one left of their best of new, on the hour. 
 
The power to make the right call, and the proper decision test after all, yeah! Of all the others with - or even those without a vested interest in it. It is he, the voters, we. It’s always the “we,” us sorts who have got the correct answer as we must, Hart.
 
We’ve got the power to get them and the rest of us, out of this hellhole of a thinly divided one-sided messy mess brawl that I did, Paul. The one that those over there, with purely non-politically motivated interests Claire, clearly, didn’t have. Wink-wink, and nod. Best of all, from the very onset, even before that call. “Fair?”
 
“Fear. I guess.” (“..”)
 
“I know,” but no, it wasn’t so. It wasn’t they, “them,” nor their companions who had gotten us all to digress, and divert from serving the people’s best interest then, no Bert. Which, as you already know the little …itch, was the only reason the voters had gotten interested in this messy mess business in the firster, yes, that place right there, Buster. But anyhow, let’s move along now to the best place of the firstest.
 
Because, the people, as said before, are the ones who know what’s best, for sure. So, “let’s put them to the test once more,” said the one decked out in a vest, I’m sure. “The test that we would have gotten ourselves together from the past, and institute on the voter’s list fast. Whatever they say, is the correct answer right away. That decision shall be binding, for the next four to five years on, and winding.”
 
Yes, winding up to stay, and pointing them and us toward the next generations’ spheres too, so that, if we should (somehow) manage to last that long, under these same conditions. While the other “them,” get richer and fatter, and mightier is proper, and get to secure for themselves, an elevated place for their future, in his story too, and not mine, as in; story Hugh, mine is cuter.
 
While “we,” the voting people, like he who’s mute and feeble, like me. We get poorer and weaker, and fewer and meeker, whilst wasting away even yet the more, her. And gets so blinded by the glistening lights shining, yes. Shining out of the stencil, trashy wrapping papers bright and binding. So much so that they, we, us, and not them, but, “us.” Those of us who can’t ever seem to be able to see a thing but our own guts, and a few busted up buttons and bolts to screw us and our smoked-out cigarette but out, the doors, fuss, and foremost. Well, maybe.
 
Perhaps there’ll remain a bit of hearing left in the hearing aids for these sorts of “us souls,” to hear the piles of dressed-up nonsense that they tell them and us there. When comes the next election year.
So much so that, we may go out again, and vote for them. Not me, nor us, but, them, and much more of the same.
 
The most outrageous pile of ducklings’ lame but. But, but who is to be blamed? Really?
Surely, not me nor us, but them, Neily. Those who will be able to do the most “nothing” for most of them. Well, nothing other than to do them in, again. Amen.
 
You probably get the leader that you deserve with her. So I heard it said of them, as it occurred. Would have happened when you went out to play, and would have swallowed the broth that they had served up and tossed, away. Now, look, these are they, those. The bosses’ boss, and rose. Those you get with the polling fingers from polls. Yes, there they are.
 
From the highly sophisticated down to the lowest bum, dressing up the business class, in the house of the gated near the bar on the skid, and the showroom windows, and the wasted. Among all the other things that are well-known and documented that they did. “You do know what I mean, kid, don’t you?”
 
“Yes, it's true.” 
 
"I know." But no, we’re not here talking about those at the center of the scheme of things. We are talking about those two extremes, like, where voters in elections lie somewhere in between. Yeah, I  mean, in them is where all our solutions lie, naked and bare but, but… 
 
“But, why?” 
 
“What the heck do I care, my guy?” So said that man over there, on high. Beware! Voters, you sure had better beware. 

Author Notes
Just before COVID-19 was a thing, this was the big thing. Meanwhile, the politicians were there busily arguing, take a look at this, and hiss; voter perils are still lurking lazily under poling fingers. So, here's to you oh, a poem of the times

     

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