Three Monkeys Online

A Curious, Alternative Magazine

The Drones | a poem by Eamonn Stewart

The youth I know are angry drones
Appeased by a certain smoke alone.
Their function done: their queen bees
Ascend to forensic matriarchy.


But it’s futile to speak
For these smoke-dazed drones –
“The Armed Struggle’s” ASBO epigones.
They only want to get away with it
And so be left alone.


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