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“The Pod is Broken and Glued and the Peas Are Rolling on the Floor”

It is the final surrender of government to money.
This ultimate control comedy show has given birth to a perfect epitome of America —
A sneering “cool kid” with no compassion,
A biting incisor to exact on the world,
In the minds of millions of helpless, cloistered,
Overworked voters,
Every bit the anger they feel about their predicament —
He hates the world as they do.

Ears to pleas have fallen deaf,
Hearts to humanity have crusted,
Developed spores,
Developed teeth and ganglia
With which to face
The next tedious day.
In the sky today, I saw a dark cloud.
I’m not sure if it was trying to tell me something,
But I batted it down with my hand and started kicking it down the sidewalk.
I just had to make something hurt,
Hurt like that handicapped reporter the butt of mockery,
Hurt like that Hispanic anchorman the victim of cold, unfeeling dismissal,
Hurt like people’s consciousnesses,
People’s pride,
People’s manhood and womanhood
Before the constant drudgery,
The repetition,
The lies that said they would get an “American dream,”
That they’d become the star of their own movie,
Movies that never got written
Because wielding that wine and knife isn’t for everyone.
It’s for our leaders.

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