Why bother when no one else listens?
Why reason
with the Fat Man's Lips
that sputter hate and falsehoods
like bullets through a flag?
Why speak
when you are stuck living
among people who might hate
you?
It's clear
that half the country
stands on either side
of reason
but no one knows
where anyone stands
as we nod hello,
pretending to get along
for the sake of getting along,
going nowhere.
Friends, families, strangers
wedged apart
by religion,
fear,
feeling that no one listens
anymore.
The Red Faced Fat Man
has CONTROL OF THE MIC.
He's cranked up the volume
to build a culture of walls,
determined to be
the VOICE in the BOX.
we SHOUT into ANY ear,
desperate to be heard.
But HOW
can anyone
listen to BOILING
insanity?
Why bother
when no one of consequence
seems to hear?
Who is 'of consequence'?
Not who, but 'What'—
Money.
Money is of Consequence.
That is It. That is All.
And those who have it
Demand. More.
The Fat Man's Fingers
will never be long
enough to grab all the Dollars
and Pussies
he wants.
So he conned a country
by showing us
how to ignore
what we CHOOSE NOT to hear.
To speak
is to throw myself
on the pyre of a raging nation
primed
with interests of oil and gas.
my words
accomplish Nothing.
So I slip this scribbled poem
under your door
in the dead of night—
a note
From me to you,
just to say
I'm here, too, and
I hear you.
Pass it along.