The Experience
A person using another
For nothing else than
Momentary amusement.
Nothing here of any
Consequence, no
Respect, affection.
One of them wonders
If there is
Something more.
Both of them leave
Worse off for
The experience.
At the Bottom
Keeping women down,
They call it tradition.
Telling them what to do
With their bodies.
Condemning them to
Second-class status.
Piety used as an
Excuse to subjugate.
If they’re on top then
Someone’s at the bottom.
What He Knows
Absence of light in his eyes,
Extinguished long ago
By the very people
Who could have kindled it –
Cared for him as a
Precious gift.
Some stories don’t end
The way we might wish,
Meandering in some awful
Direction instead,
Consuming themselves and us –
Unconscious coldness.
He doesn’t lack certainty,
Absolutely sure that
Hardness is the best path
To everything, it’s
What he knows, the only
Thing he recognizes.
Change the Argument
I have the misfortune of
Watching a video of him
Giving a talk to an approving
Audience where he smugly
Suggests that there is
Nothing more to destroying a
Caring individual than to
Change the argument,
Cast the kind person as evil,
And then ride in to save
The day with shockingly
Simplistic and disingenuous
Schemes that hurt people.
The Same Thing
It try the same
Thing one more time,
As if it’s going to
Make a difference,
It never seems to but
There is always hope.
Vastly Wealthy Nation
A significant, sad number of
Individuals in the vastly
Wealthy nation declare
That providing health care
For all human beings is
Ridiculous, that the
Well-being of each person is
A privilege and not a right,
That the common good is but a
Quaint idea dreamed up by
Soft, delusional weirdos who
Don’t understand that all
That matters is helping the
Wealthy prosper while
Cheering perpetual war
And laughing at the poor.
Killing the Arts
Killing the arts,
Heavy-handed plot to
Silence dissent.
Stifle creativity,
Gag the rabble-rousing
Subversives.
Suppress contradictory
Voices challenging
Authority.
No one left to
Speak uncomfortable truths.
They have won, and lost.
Paupers
I guess it must be
Written somewhere that
We shouldn’t take care
Of those less fortunate
Than us, that we should
Make paupers suffer
Because, after all,
They’re just lazy and
Deserve to live in squalor
While all the resources are
diverted to the ruling class.
Follow the Rules
They come from
A dark place where
No light is allowed in.
Don’t talk back,
Your voice doesn’t
Matter here.
Follow the rules
And you won’t
Get hurt.