The State of the Onion

Sun, 12/15/2013 - 00:25 -- mds627

Location

I speak on behalf of the collective

 

The citizens of the state of confusion

The tortured “they” who tiptoe trip the tedium between

Greatness and graceless

Pandering to the panopticon

Fearing failure’s feathertip fancies forgetting

 

We wake; watching wistful wailing

Misty mornings amidst this millenium of mediocrity

We choose remonstration over demonstrations

Preparations over reparations

Constructing skyscrapers on sand and salt

Engineering empires atop edifices

Crammed with the corpses that didn’t fit into the skeleton closets

That garbled grin of gentrification.

Great.

 

All men are created eq- well - you know what we mean

Sorry, the fountainhead leaked all over my politics

I’m such a capitalist that my tears turn into pennies

And my sweat into silver dollars

Yesterday I walked into a flash mob but I knew the moves

It was a choreographed waltz into a pyramid scheme

 

Your cell awaits you, sir

They say l’enfer c’est des autres

Hell is other people

After a long day, who wouldn’t like some solitary confinement?

 

Small citizen, see the sideways schemes

Beat back the doublethink

Don’t bend over for Big Brother

Instead seal your lips with a rebellion

And kiss every stranger you see

And remember -

Trust only the trying trysts

Of midnight marches - into magnificence -

 

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741