The Blind Leading the Blind

We move in silence through the crowds,
Aware at last that Breugal's cruel visions
Now have come to life. The peasants,
Bearing heads of asses, bray their fealty
To a millionaire's retarded son. The streets
Are filled with black men murdered, having
Turned their backs to cops. The schools
Must be hosed out again to wash away
The blood of kids who've died because
There cannot be a law which limits
Ownership of guns. The bodies trickle
Home, a minor matter, in a sense, as those
Who die for Massa Sam, at this point,
All are black or brown, and where they die
Cannot be found on atlases by donkey-
Headed partisans of Mr. Millionaire's
Amazingly slow-witted son. Accountants
Spread the news: the nation's going
Broke, and quickly. Soon enough,
All will be lost, but that is news of little
Use to us. We see what will collapse,
And we will leave it for somewhere
Where heads of citizens are human
(Maybe there is no such place),
And self-important trust fund sons
Are laughed at, and what Breugal
Painted doesn't seem so real.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 64 times
Written on 2018-09-20 at 03:15

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