Politics, marketing, sport

To make a freedom mound you need several belches of the common man
twist them in a scrawl and brawl them before the masses
pretend this makes them worthy
meld them in your secret
make them special
burden them with petty necessities

Measure them to up to civilisation's spontaneous decay
Once measured beyond them with worries of flagging
Become a righteous priest of nagging compost
Your fragrance a beacon for the unworthy to fall back on
A poop-scoop can metaphor-mixed vulture
Feeding on carcasses five days rotten in gluttony

Feel proud as you make all this jam before you
As the ship descends
Salvage none of it
Though it takes you too
Shitted up Burma-fed worm