Crowning

I don’t think the world is ending.
Yet.
We are in labor.
Panting.
Pushing.
Crowning.

America is birthing the
New World Order,
Controlled by greedy men who feel no compassion.
They divide their winnings,
And smile,
Reveling in their victories.

Over whom, you ask?
Over all of us,
Anyone who doesn’t see
Power as wealth,
Wealth as absolute power.

To them we are
The Parasite Class,
The poor,
The old,
The disabled,
The different.

We are insignificant.

“Arbeit mach frei.”

“Let them eat cake.”

You think you’re special to them?
You’d imagined they’d invite you in for their victory celebration, didn’t you?
You don’t belong either.
They will throw out some trinkets for you.
Make you feel superior,
Justified in your enabling
Of the world’s destruction.

And while they drink champagne and count their money, AI will deal with us,
The mess that is
Humanity.





Poetry by Melinda K Zarate The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 25 times
Written on 2025-06-29 at 01:39

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one trick pony The PoetBay support member heart!
Thank you for this concise, damning, indictment. I love the way this flows down the page—the unfolding of our new and horrific reality.
2025-06-29