Do Something about It

He sits on his comfortable couch
In his comfortable house
Comfortably talking about
How uncomfortable it makes him
When one of those homeless
Lowlifes walks down his street
And how he’s going to
Do something about it someday.

The End of Another Day

At the end of another
Day on the picket line,
Shouting herself hoarse,
Enduring taunts from
Constricted, angry faces,
Walking miles so that
Others might not have to
Do the same, toiling on
Behalf of the less fortunate
Who have no voice,
She puts her coat in the closet,
Throws on some comfortable
Clothes and lies down
On the couch, quickly
Dozing off to dream
Of fewer battles.

Someone Understands

Dreams overlooked,
A mocking laugh bids
Possibility goodbye while
In another corner of the
Planet someone understands
That we all do much better
When we take care of
Each other and the fragile
Place we all inhabit.

Permeated

It’s a sad, troubling moment
When you perceive the closing of
A mind, the point at which you
Realize that you’re not talking
With the same person you once
Knew but one who has become
Permeated by something other
Than what you both used to
Consider so commonplace that
It was never even mentioned.

Different Time

I chance upon
A much-beloved song
From long ago.

A flood of memories,
Youth, hope, wonder,
Pervasive self-loathing.

Dreams of being loved,
Someday, by someone,
In a different time.

Petty Tyrant

Destroying a nation
To satisfy unacknowledged,
Unmet needs, a petty
Tyrant imposing his
Frivolous whims on a
Tired, anxious populace
Whose only role
In the farce is a grim,
Resigned obedience under
The threat of violence.

Art and the Humanities

Of course their first
Target is art and the
Humanities, you wouldn’t
Want to have any agitators
Out there who can think
For themselves and question
Authority, you require
Compliant people who will
Take to their pitchforks
To fight for the same
Shady characters who
Gleefully oppress them.

Not There Anymore

Without any fanfare,
He’s not there anymore,
For no apparent reason.
Divergent lives,
Disparate experiences,
Paths that do not meet
But for chance.

The Only Reality He’s Ever Known

The only reality he’s
Ever known is wealth and
Privilege (and the
Narrative concocted by
His family to make it
Seem like all their
Good fortune happened
Through determined toil
Rather than by some
Relative many years ago
Who happened to be at
A favorable place at an
Advantageous time and who
Never let it be forgotten
That it was his superior
Mettle and exertion that
Made the whole thing possible,
Not the bit about
Taking advantage of others
For personal gain),
Which makes it really easy
For him to denigrate those
Who have far less than him.