Hard Cs

Power always begins
With a strategist – who keeps

Wealth in the hand
That feeds him – heaps –

In his high chair. Pausing only
To throw scraps at the dogs –

He plays, and tinkers, shits,
And smiles and receives

Accolades that trigger
Public reaction – he farts.

The man is receiving a medal
On the other side – for services

Rendered, for keeping up with
The boys in their carts

Vast chunks of public loot
Adorns the walls, his best suit.

Meanwhile someone else
Is trying to live on credit

Having bought some food
And a few gifts for the baby.

Wondering if they’ll effing freeze,
Dry January means having nothing at all.

The debate

Humanity, love, kindness
Sympathy, empathy
At the core.
And outside the ability
To know
That these things are
Vulnerable
To greed, corruption
Sarcasm
And bitterness
Experience and wisdom
Manipulation.
Words
We knew
Already knew
Have always known.

The other
Was just a System
A network of systems
That would frame you
Digest you
Eschew you
Screw you,
But no sooner
Had the other said this
He knew
Already knew
Had always known
He’d backed himself
Into a corner
And all he could do
Was bare his teeth
Posture
Appeal to us to hate
The other.

Philosophy
Politics
Poetry

Flesh
Blood
Bone

stand strong

Now close the door

Stand strong

Don’t give in

To their chants and songs

Noisy excessive din

Be bold

Take control

You have a job to do

You won’t be moved

By their weakness

No surrender

Stand tall

Give your all

Heed not

Their cries and pleas

Contagious disease

Look at them

Pathetic

We are united you and me

Together

We will make history

Change history

Listen to me

Their silly fears

Will pass

With them

They’ll forget

What you did

Their children will never guess

So don’t give in

You have a job to do

Besides they are breaking the rules

I’ve just written

The fools.