'Sam Sorrow, a portrait of my uncle'-Laz
(C) Copyright 2010 Randall Warner
circle of life
an eagle
devouring
her own young
a predatory wolf
caught in steel trap
where freedom means
gnawing a leg off
sniffing at the rotting corpse
of a once great empire
now built upon broken dreams
and disillusionment
piled high with the hubris
of hundreds of years
of mercantilism, of greed,
of genocide and slavery
a formerly great nation
now morbidly fascinated
with violence, with war,
with death, and destruction
the body politic
crucified and bleeding
vultures circling, waiting
to peck out eyes
with faces hardened
in grim resolve
acting as wage slaves
reporting for duty
unsatisfactory satisfaction
with seemingly mundane
automaton-like repetitiveness
another monkey, another typewriter
the blood of noses
sacrificed upon
corporate grindstones
needlessly
lives ground to dust
families neglected
sweat and toil
harvested for profit
too busy to love
too distracted to live
most often neglected
always denied
indentured servants
either a serf or a lord
a destitute existence
with little reward
and the rich get richer
while the poor just die
rabid wolves fleecing sheep
sheep paying for the privilege
we, like rubberneckers
watching while driving slowly,
past the carnage, the wreckage
of a horrible auto accident
as traffic piles up
causing chains of reaction
turning in slow motion into
an infinite loop of causality
repeating endlessly
lessons never learned
mistakes continually made
with clockwork precision
none seem awake enough
nor aware enough
to cry out loudly
to curse the injustices
to realize compassion
to take real action
to finally put a stop
to this vulgar parade
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