It’s not so much
That it can’t happen
But rather that it
Is happening one
Small increment
At a time.
A right taken away
Here and there,
Presented as
Personal freedom,
Establishing servitude
And fealty.
The state as father,
Dictatorial minds
Subduing the masses,
A grim authoritarian
Dystopia regretted
After the fact.
Imperious bluster,
Compulsion to dominate
Absolutely,
In all situations,
Under all conditions,
Unquestioned,
Unchallenged,
Under strict penalty.
All who dare trespass
Sanctified laws suffer
Disproportionate,
Unreasonable,
Consequences.
Guard the child residing
In the tower,
Unnurtured, unloved,
Petulant.
They’ve been called
Various things throughout
The eons, but their goals
Are always simple and
Surprisingly transparent.
Hoard everything they can,
Behave with extreme selfishness,
Resist change at every turn,
Denigrate the poor,
Exalt the rich.
Sulking cry babies,
Clutching greasy bottles,
Throwing unseemly tantrums
When they don’t
Get their way.
Unable to stop themselves,
They obliterate anyone and
Anything in their way.
Cold, callous, unfeeling;
Always the same story.
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.