The same salesman in
A different suit,
Promising opportunity
For the many, delivering
Obscene wealth to the few,
Consolidating power
At the top.
Just another sleazy,
Unscrupulous con artist,
Out for what he and
His buddies can get
At the expense of
Saps who don’t
Belong to the club.
He amasses a fortune
Larger than the
Gross domestic product
Of many nations.
This is where he’s
Always wanted to be,
A place where he
Reigns supreme.
All that matters is
House number nine,
Car number fifty-seven,
Continuous gluttonous consumption.
He works night and day,
The maintenance of
His preeminence
Paramount.
Never a thought given
To using his wealth to
Make a meaningful
Difference in the world.
Nobody liked her,
Or better yet,
Everybody feared her.
She was the one
Who spoke the truth
At inopportune times.
They had no use for
Someone who didn’t live
In perpetual unawareness.
She would move from
Town to town,
Being herself.
In each place,
Nobody knew what to
Make of her.
Along the way,
Some people understood
And welcomed her.
Expecting the toxic
To do anything but
Destroy everything,
An impossibility unless
Something changes,
Which it never does,
Certain people being
Steadfastly the way
They are unless some
Glimmer of enlightenment
Finds its way inside,
Healing stark brokenness.
Young woman wakes up,
Looks out the window,
Magnificent tangle of
Buildings reaches for the sky.
Fixes something to eat,
Gets ready and walks outside,
World of promise and
Possibility.
Smiles contentedly
This exuberant day,
She can do whatever she wants,
Her true self shining.
Unhampered by back room
Handshakes, byzantine schemes
Hatched by broken
Hoarding malcontents.
He’s sure he has
All the answers,
At least the facile
Ones that don’t require
Much thought or introspection.
It’s been this way
For a long time,
The result of being told
He’s not good enough and
Shouldn’t think for himself.
He vaguely remembers
The time period when
His mind closed,
Leaving only a small opening
For nonsense to get in.
No matter what anyone says or how many
Facts are revealed or how much
Evidence is available or how painfully
Obvious the truth becomes or how dire
The consequences are or how strongly the
Tide of history pulls or how much
Discomfort ensues or how soundly invalidated
Your position becomes or how many opportunities
To shift direction arise or how the voice inside
You reminds you of your folly, don’t budge,
Don’t move, you’re right where you always
Have been, and may always be.
It dawns on him that
Perhaps there is nothing
He can do, that he
Really has tried everything
Possible, that the only
Variable here is whether
The cause of his agony
Will gain some kind of insight
That changes the course
Of events, a healing of
Pain rather than
Tightening of the rack.
He was adept at
Saying anything he
Needed to in order
To get whatever it
Was he felt he needed
At that particular moment.
People could perish,
Empires could fall,
But at least he
Was feeling great
At the expense of
Other human beings.
A brutal thirst for anything to
Allay the unquenchable,
Overwhelming yearning to
Climb a fanciful mountain.
Eviscerate every challenge real,
Imagined, more the latter.
Increase the dose to maintain.
Tread water until the next wave.
A sense of invincibility demands
Perpetual tending, sustenance.
Stand in the dark staring
At the same apparition.