Conspicuous Nonsuspicion

Were the era reversed, those same taggers and epithets and Poet McTeagle wallaby wanna-bes and bellow machine men and would-be Van Goghs and highest hosannas holies and decorated sub-generals and underlings of distinction and ladies in torn red and proletariat horse show and featherlings white and frosted goggle-wearers and protectors of the crown and down-trodden trod down and pizza-flipping scions and doughy middletown nobodies and fuzzy logic blockheads and hammered silver neophytes and rustic county bumpkins and dissection-destined street cats and pithy talky tubesters and round-the-cooler babblers and stuck zippers and stale-breath kippers would have said the same damn thing.