Strings

Six narrow men plot pow’r and dark control;

hands deftly – so softly – pull puppet strings

of nations, markets and the web of things

to leave us lost with no choices at all.

And children line up at their classroom doors;

daily drug fix guaranteed to enthrall.

While parents’ self-assault loses it all;

forgetting guilt with Prozac, hiding more.

And war is an industry, growing fast:

profits returned slyly to men of “grace”

never called to account in public space

for our lives, hopes, and dreams – all battle lost.

What world is this where good are yoked for bad?

We have stopped thinking and now must be mad.