Memories On The Eve

At first it was a louse named Gysi, he thrived in Stasi Germany and made a comeback so much later, relying on the stupid people. The SED turned PDS, both communist and antisocial, yet organised with slyness. It took some time and then they found corruptness, not his commy past to nail him to the Church of Victory. He had not hung more than one day when Wowereit, with Brylcreem hair and manicured pink nails so dirty that pathogens did shy away in terror. He liked the boys, and danced his steps up one steep ladder to the attic where no one saw his machinations. Berlin, again the capital of Fatherland oh how we praise you, has never been a German town, always a renegade indeed. So no surprise that blatant greed and rank corruption and perversion of laws and human decency there would reside. I will not mention Helmut Kohl, whose conscience yielded to pure blubber, he was a connaisseur of ladies yet fell into the septic pool of gold. One could imagine how, in silent earth von Doenitz turns and groans aloud the world has gone in 60 years down slimy tubes into decay, a final time.