all the president’s junkyard dogs …

they appear lifelike
but have no humanity
they are just castings
hollow men who resonate
whatever you want to hear

 

outsourcing…

sunken eyes
blackened with fear
flesh
stretched tight
over
a fractured skeleton
a framework of despair
too weakened to move

or
swish away flies
flies
on
unattended sores
festering wounds
of
war
war for
computer chips
or
more precisely
the resources needed
to
manufacture chips
precious semiconductors
necessary
for

calling out
for
pizza
or
chatting
with
unknown friends
who’ve
been befriended
but
not one call
to
this child

 

 

another laundry day…

child
ain’t nobody
gonna
wash
your laundry
those stains

have been
on
your bed sheets
for
years
and
as much as
you’d like
they
ain’t
no
turin shroud
looks
more to me
like
the face
of
a dying nation
outlined
in the blood
of
its
fringe
citizens
but
you do as you wish
add
some more
bleach
to
make it
as
white
as
snow
just like
you’ve done
everytime
that stain
for
freedom
reappears

 

only following orders…

because of insurance
patient was sent home early
complying doctors
concerned about their payments
death within 24 hours

behavior modeling…

the brown bag prophet
cocooned
in a soviet army
winter bekesha
fur coat
much like
putin’s
minus
putin’s
thigh hugging boots
mumbled
from beneath
his layers
that
if all criminals
are
judged
by
the same
standards of behavior
as
the white house
then
the crime rate
in
the nation
is going
to have
a dramatic drop
since
most thugs
and
gangsters
are
going to get
one of those
get out of jail free cards
from
most juries

complicity…

another child
died
today
witnesses said
no one else
was on the bridge
as the body
sailed into
the afterlife
but
i tell you
the child
was pushed
by your hand
and mine
because
we
did not
reach out
to grasp
the fragile thread
of hope
that held
the child
to this world