reopening america’s schools…

small
and
insignificant child
you
will be
canonized
some day
as
you
and
your peers
those
unwitting martyrs
to
the cause
of
the global economy
go back
to
school
so
your
parents
can
go back
to work
your deaths
will be
for
the greater good
of
the profit margin
and
the president’s
re-election campaign
as well as

bolstering
his
ego

 

those above the law…

you’re vinegar drops
on the crucifix of time
our blood warmed your feet
but shed blood turns to lava
and so our fate will be yours

 

500 brigades to their death…

it was
to my understanding
hand-to-hand combat
though
there were
supporting efforts
the fights
were
on an individual basis
as such
no memorial has been planned
yet
these
hundred thousand souls
should not be
forgotten
for
when a soul
battles for life
the battle
is for all life
all those
that soul touched
or
would have touched
have
also suffered
death
some will know
to mourn
others
will only feel a sense
of
emptiness
not knowing

why
nor
could it be explained
if they knew
it was
the death
of
a soul not met
that created this void
in their life
for how does one explain
the death
of
so many
to satisfy
the insane aspirations
of
one man

 

driving instructions…

like
a child
staring out
the back window
of
their parent’s car
we pine
for
what was
as if
it were
really
as wonderful
as we
imagine
we forget
the arguments
and
incidences
that
ended with
our
early depature
declaring
that
we’ll
never return
to
this god forsaken place
or
talk to
this
persona of satan
ever again
yet
when we are
isolated
from reality
we embellish
the few morsels
of
joy
we had
creating
a fictionalized historical event
probably
as truthful as
most history
where the good guys
always win
and
the damsel in distress
is
a kung fu master
seems
we’re always
looking
for
the rationale
for
events
how do they
fit
into
the plan
and
purpose
of
life
well
this might surprise you
but
there is no
real purpose
nothing’s been
ordained
your empty minutes
and
hours
are controlled
by
no god
or
saint
it’s you
staring out the back window
instead
of
looking at
where
you’re driving to

 

inveterate…

has the world
changed
or
just
our
awareness
of
the world
the wounds
have always been there
some folks
just needed
a bit
of
salt
to feel them

 

tomb raiders…

like locusts
that
devour every living thing
grave robbers
have set upon
the land
they’ve come
in waves
the first
were
those
just seeking
the finest treasures
all the while
spray painting graffitii
to cover up
all the sacred symbols
the second wave
was comprised
of
magistrates
ministers of the law
seeking
personal glorification
by
possessing
those things that would
extend their power
in the eyes
of
others
the last wave
were common men
tearing
through the tomb
seeking
scraps
whatever
tossed aside
by
those
whose actions
had taken
justice
and
freedom
from
the nation

 

replicas…

wrapped in a comforter
of
memories
lying
in bed
head buried
in
pillows
of
what could have been
day passes
into
tomorrow’s night
when
nothing changes
outside
the world
ignores
all human tragedy
as if
watching
an old rerun
and
perhaps
that is the case
history
repeating
don quixotes
we all