An Eyeful of Neverland.
They say I = My People
Well, “My People” have a saying:
Monster’s child may see a monster where Monster’s mother sees her child.
The God Who Answers By
[a FLASH & a BANG]
Y’all surprised?
Sand in your food, food in your nose, hands over your eyes?
It’s no news. Flies follow Corpse when death arrives.
Fish long for the ocean, unable to see
Your America.
Saint Nicholas demoted, his canon steeped in myth
Elves wielding steeples which double as selfie sticks
Naughty nooses spotted as lawless lowlifes applauded
Marauders breaking gods in a feat of iron and clay;
The Paper, as yet, preserved but the principles have decayed —
Hello! I’m Confusion.
I’ve lost my insular Illusion of diversity, inclusion
Of progress, of statehood, of reason and rhyme
Eyes have been shined, mouths have been cured
of less-than-hopeful ideals, miseducation of heroes
Petering out of pawns over generations of evil.
To be in pain almost all the time
Parents-to-be, left thinking photos a puny fee
For the priceless gift of Olympus,
Grateful to bleed out over lifetimes
to ever so slightly un-parch their seed;
Seeing now, no African or american planted Iroko Tree.
Remove the Mask in view of all — abomination aside
No such thing as over-wise, the world must finally recognize:
See! Monkey does what it decries!
No bones broken despite how blue the bay of pigs
Door opens wide when homeowners seek first admission;
Armed guards and burglar alarms when black people start thinking
Or their tail-light starts blinking
Twice more than allowed, or they voice their thoughts aloud or
Gather ‘round singing of grace & how sweet they find its sound
When one finger brings blood, the whole hand may well hold a knife
When one finger brings oil, it’s not just that one you wipe.
So rend your garments, you morally starving
You people whom crime pays
25 cents a day to raid capital letters and raze Capitol stakes
We wage Third World War over Tw*tter and
Plasma-membrane TV, regurgitate stale talking points we’ve consumed selectively
This, of course, par for a country
(run by criminals fiending for pardons)
whose suspects, too often, are largely in charge and,
*sigh*
what a mess.
In my country, we have a saying:
He who gathers ant-infested firewood should be prepared to dine with lizards.
Insurrection has brought its own stool to your tall tower,
and me I’ve had an eyeful.