Let me reposition
myself to summon
diction…
satting down
somewhere and hushing
like my Aunt Helen
used to say.
Poetry as filter
for that which
would diminish
our humanity.
Omnipresently exhausted
from inequities
on planet –
how did they
manage this travesty?
A labyrinth of evil
unable to cede
good to its
people…
no money for healthcare
but they can retrofit
a bribe?
Hard to surmise
the evil
that they do
in the open…
as no disguise is needed,
the people are dead
inside a body politic
that is rotten
and ill begotten
are we forsaken
and ripe for
the picking?
Seismic shifts
in thinking
quiet is kept…
but,
the third eye
ain’t blinking
Tomfoolery schooling them
pulling wool over
them as if
they were sheep
I’m being not creative
or esoteric
just trying warn
my fellow humans
about innovations
against stationary
complacency
A reading of said piece as part of the Pa & Son Adventures...
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