May the fourth be with you!
With this poem I’m getting back to normal-ish. I’ve learned not to expect it every day. Every dawn brings a new chance to… continue. And that’s enough for now.
My poem for this week has some anger and I’ve been told by political-minded friends that it is both left and right. That’s what’s cool about poetry… the reader participates with their interpretation.
The truth? It’s not liberal or conservative. “The Man” in the poem isn’t Trump—but he can be for you if you like. For me, it represents pig minded oppression. We’ve all experienced it. Whether it was a manager, a teacher, a co-worker, relative, friend… you will have a face to go with the image.
The magic in poetry is the interpretation.
We eat word salad—
force-fed false facts, statistics
The Man keeps us down—
slaves to appearance, to greed
‘til debt do us part.
Ignorance and lies—
they whisper and we spread them…
good little Sheeple.
Pay no attention
to the man on puppet strings.
He is the jester
shiny ring of keys
meant to dazzle our senses
and keep us cooing
babes behind crib bars
fed pablum and pestilence…
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