Don’t worry
About a thing.
We’ve got it
Under control.
No need to
Think about anything.
Sit down,
Relax.
Enjoy some numbing
Alcohol and amusements.
Everything’s
Fine.
If that doesn’t work,
We’ll impose martial law.
He spots the well-dressed
Business man walking toward
Him and eagerly asks him
Whether he wants a shoe shine.
Kneeling in front of
The man, he goes about his
Magic, buffing and polishing
With a friendly smile.
The ritual ends with a
Diffident request for payment.
The man reaches in his pocket
And tosses him a pittance.
The day passes,
One customer at a time,
Staring at the shoes
Of the powerful.
Cutting all
The lifelines.
Boats set adrift,
Heading toward nowhere.
A roiling sea
Gulping them whole.
You’re on your own
In this world.
Don’t expect us
To help you.
Sad spiraling
Plunge to the bottom.
With a shrug of
His shoulders he
Says that there
Will always be poverty,
And, unknowingly, with
That one pronouncement,
Millions, billions, of
People are relegated to
Being poor, simply
Because this one
Woefully misinformed person
And everyone like him,
Have bought into the lie that
It has to be this way.
Somber hall,
Air of sanctity,
Robed men enter slowly.
At the helm,
The one with the
Biggest hat.
Instructive incantations,
Solemn reminders of
Established order.
Not officiating,
Nor allowed to,
Women.
Erudite clique meets
To devise the latest
Brilliant plan.
On the agenda:
Relentlessly eliminate
Critical programs.
Austere measures
Imposed regardless
Of outcomes.
Steady diet of
Scarcity,
Starvation.
Hobble it
Until it can’t
Do anything.
An arrangement where we
Have no choice but
To conform to survive,
Think of ourselves
In terms of a group,
Embrace tribalism,
Accept dysfunction
As normal,
Our view of ourselves
Filtered through the
Unmet needs of others,
Expected to
Perpetuate the debacle
Or be cast out.
Never having endured
A single day of discrimination,
Or been treated differently solely
Because of how they look –
Deemed to be less than human –
Traded as a commodity
To enrich soulless captors,
They declare that all strife
Is over, deep historical,
Personal wounds glossed-over
In a single cavalier pronouncement,
The suffering of millions
Reduced to a sound bite
Promulgated by thoughtless louts.
Fair faces sitting
Around a table
Jovially sharing a
Meal served by
Darker complexions.
Their ancestors
Ran the railroads,
Built industries,
Took advantage of
Hapless inhabitants.
Entrenched gentry
Favoring a certain
Type of look,
Lineage,
Connections.
