That military losses come
Is sure when empires falter,
But when the rules of law succumb
'Tis very hard to alter:
The poor go begging for a crumb
But only find a halter.
A frivolous captain at the helm
Is driven toward fiasco;
When circumstances overwhelm
He's nobody to ask O—
But the convulsions of a realm
Are not soothed by Tabasco.
When wounds are self-inflicted there's
No way to lend shit polish,
As when a faction, self-awares
Opts fair play to abolish,
But, owl-like, every man repairs
To small game, feeling owlish.
The scales of justice Themis holds
Skew wild when you assault her;
A Mitch McConnell scolds and scolds,
Himself virtue's defaulter;
And empires crash, when honor folds,
Like waves into Gibraltar.