Unwavering fealty to
The group, the greater
Good left behind in
Favor of a narrow agenda
Benefiting only a few
At the highest end of
The scale, preferential
Treatment for those who
Already enjoy all the perks,
Long rows of identical
Drones marching in formation,
Obliterating everything
In their path to
Satisfy a pathological
Compulsion for power.
There’s a long pause
Followed by a few
Tentative attempts to
Get the conversation
Started, trying to scale
A wall erected by fear.
Devoid of knowledge and
Experience, they wobble
Down an unexplored path,
Each hesitant to take
Another step, a precipice
At every turn.
It ends before it begins,
Where it’s always been,
Laying dormant and untended,
The disease never treated,
Ignored as much as
Important things can be.
With preternaturally
Acute perception,
They discern vulnerability
And descend wantonly
Upon the distress,
Promising solace,
Delivering misery,
Sucking the life out of
Everything they touch.
Satiated, they move on
To the next victim.
Fabricating an elaborate
Fiction about how the
Very people they’re
Mistreating are somehow
The oppressors, a weak
Justification for their own
Reprehensible actions,
Constantly compensating,
Contriving comfort by
Projecting their own
Offenses on the objects of
Their despotism while
Claiming victimhood.
Every event was
The same: Stand there
And get talked at
For far too long,
Until his eyes glazed over,
All the while wishing
The purveyor of this
Deluge of unrequested,
Vapid, remarkably
Uninteresting information
Would notice his
Increasing agony.
In line at the food bank,
Taught faces looking downward,
Thinking of a time when a
Day’s work paid the bills,
Put food on the table,
Allowed for a vacation.
Dreams swallowed whole by
Ravenous corporations and
Those who give them the
Power to do anything they want.
Left to his own devices,
Which really just means
That he can do whatever
He wants, and that leads
To nothing that anyone
Else is happy with,
An out-of-control asteroid
Careening toward anything
In its path, unable to
Get out of the way.
I used to have doors
They would barge in
Through and take away
Parts of who I was,
But I’ve closed them
For some time, much to
Their bewilderment.
Beneath all the
Deceptive rhetoric about
Protecting this or
Morality that,
There is a fervent
Desire to control women,
Keep them unequal,
Subservient,
In their place,
Catering to the every
Whim of their oppressors.
