Sore heels slog through
mud-slung meadows.
Vested verities abide
toasted variations.
Slug lines drop and bob
in the print morass.
Plausibility gives pause,
paws at the conscience.
Malignant manipulators
march in a mean parade.
Truth is a trap without bait.
Party decorations never lie.
An ear to the wall hears all.