good poems

Purely by Chance

He takes every opportunity
To bray about how
He’s made his own fortune,
Even though he knows
That all he’s had to do
Is be born purely by chance
Into a prosperous family and
Work far less than
Any person toiling for
Minimum wage, but that
Doesn’t sound as good as
Bragging about how well
He gambles the wealth
He inherited, an act that
Requires absolutely no genius.

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Nothing Grows

A dismal death cult
Unmoved by evidence,
Driven by self-hate and
Fear of the other,
Supporting oppression to
Maintain their hold on power.
Nothing grows in
This barren environment,
Only devastation.

Collective Brainpower

They get together and their
Collective brainpower
Devises an outmoded
Way of dealing with the
Matter at hand,
Favoring division,
Eliminating communication and
Any chance to fix anything,
An approach learned in places
Where people don’t know
How to talk about things.

Downtown

He remembers when his
Father would take him
Downtown to see all the
Amazing buildings,
Visit their favorite museums,
Revel in the energy and
Bustle of the city,
Occasionally passing some
Tattered person huddled
Under boxes and newspapers,
His father impassively
Remarking that those people
Were somehow inferior.

Errors

All the things
He thought he was
Turned out to be
Errors planted there by
Other people,
Sometimes well-meaning,
But who had no idea
What it means to
Be courageous,
Follow one’s own path in life,
Free from the herd.

Sometime

Sometime in the early 2000s
Corporations get the memo
That they can do whatever
They want: reduce the size of
Products and charge more for them,
Make everything cheaper so
It will break sooner,
Provide less and worse service,
Consolidate into monopolies,
Price exorbitantly,
Cater only to shareholders,
And nobody will do anything
About it, a methodical bleeding of
A shrinking middle class and
Growing swathes of
Human beings in poverty,
A new accepted cruelty.