Here is a fact.
Here is a custard.
The custard is yellow. Yellowish.
It has a skin, wobbly and soft,
the underbelly of an enemy.
Here is a spoon.
See how the logic
of the enemy's position
collapses due to the custard's
inherent weaknesses?
Yes you do.
The custard is yellow,
you have to see that.
And we have a spoon.
Yes, they have a spoon,
but we don't have a custard.
No we don't.
They are chewing on
their own damn lies.
Anyone who's loyal
knows that for a fact.
And all of this –
and nobody can
deny it – has
a political,
how shall I say it,
significance?
Surely you see that,
don't you?
Then you must like custard.
JB Mulligan has published more than 1100 poems and stories in various magazines over the past 45 years, and has had two chapbooks: The Stations of the Cross and THIS WAY TO THE EGRESS, as well as 2 e-books: The City of Now and Then, and A Book of Psalms (a loose translation). He has appeared in more than a dozen anthologies, and was recently nominated for the Pushcart Prize anthology.