Wave after wave
Testing his mettle,
Eroding what little
Strength remains,
Each day a new test
Of perseverance.
It’s so easy
To scream at people
About how lazy they are
Or how little they
Deserve help,
But much harder to
Come up with
Viable solutions
To complex problems,
Although we’ve shown
Time after time
Progress is possible
As long as we care.
Over and over,
They look
The other way
As children
Are killed,
Money and power
Being much more
Important than
Decency.
By the chain link fence
Lays a worn-out mattress
Surrounded by shopping
Carts filled with soiled clothes,
Cardboard, part of a lamp,
Chip bags, a few crushed beer cans,
An artificial tree, a few kids toys,
A broken window frame, parts of an
Abandoned bicycle, a car headlight,
Tattered books, various mismatched shoes,
A TV that hasn’t worked since the ’80s.
Once in a while someone walks by
And rummages through this conglomeration,
Hoping to find something of use
Instead of reminders.
They leave him
Lying there,
No fanfare,
Over the top public
Displays of grief,
Protracted processions,
Overwrought eulogies.
A lifeless piece of meat
Laying in the street,
Less than human,
What they really
Think of him,
Why they kill without
A second’s pause.
Will it or
Won’t it?
Conclusion unknown,
No answer forthcoming,
The only recourse available is to
Ponder options,
None of which are pleasant.
His town isn’t like
It used to be,
Main street was always
Bustling with people
Living their lives,
Sharing some conversation
About the weather or something
Going on at the mine.
He walks down tattered streets,
Boarded windows announcing
The memory of former tenants,
An occasional dour face averting
His gaze, nothing to do
Down here anymore and
Nobody who cares about any of it.
Jaw clenching, he vows to force
Someone to listen by voting for
The same people who did this.
I hear the same words
Coming from different
Mouths in slow motion,
With great conviction,
No doubts or hesitation.
They all describe
A disconsolate landscape of
Hopelessness and futility,
An entrenched acceptance of
Callousness and cruelty.
We’re all on our own,
They mutter grimly.
I’m transported to their
Formative years when someone
Important told them that.
Each and every
Sordid action
Shockingly demonstrates
They care nothing
For the less fortunate,
Indecency flaunted as virtue,
Cruelty the preferred currency,
A landscape littered with bodies,
Just another piece of refuse
Tossed aside by loathsome ghouls.
