He looks straight
At the camera, all
Bravado and confidence,
And blathers on about
Some fake plan that will,
As usual, damage
Vulnerable people,
Definitely not help them,
His swagger finely honed by
Years of not having to
Think of others while
Enjoying the fruits of
Contemptible rapacity.
At a certain age,
He found out that
One of the benefits of
Living in a free society
Was being able to express
His views about absolutely
Any subject, regardless of
Whether he knew what he was
Talking about or was aware
In any way of the unpleasant
Repercussions of his beliefs,
Whether they would ravage
The very freedom he professed
To love so much or relegate
Certain people to second-class
Status, he really could not
Have cared less, all he truly
Was ever concerned about was
Getting back at someone.
They’re trying to explain
Why we should care for one another
But this one guy sabotages
The conversation, forcefully
Interjecting unsubstantial,
Loud-mouthed carnival-barker-like
Falsehoods based on some strange
Utopian fantasy where
Giant corporations provide for
Everyone and human beings
Magically prosper in spite of
Massive obstacles and
Rampant selfishness;
What the guy never mentions is
His persistent fear that
One day he’ll lose everything,
Scarcity his calling card.
An attempt is made to
Acknowledge the atrocities
Committed against thousands
Upon thousands of innocent
Human beings brutally
Denied their freedom and
Exploited for financial gain,
And the only response from
The talking heads is to
Gloss over the torment by
Changing the subject to
Something completely unrelated.
There’s no epiphany here,
No emergence of conscience
Where they realize that
What they’re doing is
Unequivocally reprehensible,
Or that some kind of
Immediate change is imperative,
All that seems to matter is
Covering their tracks,
Concocting some ridiculous story,
Lying to protect each other
So they can continue doing
What they’ve always
Gotten away with.
He has a glorious dream
About a perfect world
Free from the stifling
Tyranny of government,
Where corporations can
Do whatever they want,
And some magic force
Takes care of everybody
Except, of course, for
The poor and most others.
Unable or unwilling
To understand what
It is like
For a child to
Wake up each morning
Without a home,
Without food,
Without books.
Holding his father’s hand,
He wonders how long it’s
Been since they left home
And how much longer they
Would have to walk through
This arid wasteland, so
Far away from everything.
My granddaughter and I sit
Together and I tell her
About a time when we
Finally resolved to
Take care of those
Less fortunate than ourselves,
That the collective whole was
More important than any one person,
No matter how wealthy or powerful,
That a little girl like her
Was just as valuable as
The richest man on earth,
And everyone was cherished.
