Arising each day
In an obscene
Fantasy world
Where brutalizing
Another human being
Is commonplace.
Subservient to fear,
Sickly minds
Play sordid games,
Scorning, ridiculing,
Ignoring humanity,
Lecherous ritual.
He sleeps well
At night knowing
That rivers of
Money are flowing
Into his already
Bloated coffers
While his workers
Struggle with
Whether they should
Pay the electric bill
Or put food on
The table.
He sits livid
In his armchair,
Staring at the TV,
Where people are
In the streets,
Holding signs,
Chanting slogans that make
No sense to him.
He mutters something
About ingrates
With no right to
Protest against a
Good man just doing
His job, and what about
What those people do
To one another.
They’ll fight
Tooth and nail
To give tax breaks
To their cronies –
The one percent –
Who already own
Most of everything
But still demand more.
They won’t do a
Thing to help
The real people
Doing the actual work,
Deluge up economics.
A promise of a gift
Made in confidence.
She’s never told anyone
About it and has
Never seen it
Become reality.
Fading away into
Memory,
Immaterial,
A gesture lost to time,
Obscured by
Secrecy.
Once in a while
She wonders
What it all meant
And whether it
Ever even
Existed.
Successive
Waves
Have all
Encountered
The same
Alarmed cries
About how
The beach
Will never
Be the same.
