To the Stalins and Hitlers ...


United States
30° 5' 21.5988" N, 90° 16' 50.8332" W
United States
30° 5' 21.5988" N, 90° 16' 50.8332" W
Your dream needed an audience.
Where it lacked one, one was found.
Ordinary crowds became worshippers--
Sucked into an infatuation
That was entirely designed by yourself.
It was a fame-seeker. A fame-finder.
Your dream had been aiming you at destruction
When your mind pulled that trigger
            In that instant
You imagined your whole life. You rocketed
The length of your short lived career
With the ferociousness
Of a majestic beast
That could not invoke the slightest of fear
In the tiniest of animals. Your dreams
Were shot down on impact--
They were too great to achieve. They were beyond exceptional,
Impenetrable, phenomenal, merely divine--
Unattainable events along your highway to success.
But inside your humdrumming of radical anarchy
Against the infidels 
And your Tuesday night guidebook studies,
Under your stressed bored eyes forced this way and that way,
You were unchanging.
You were pedestrian, unimaginative,
Prosaic. Perfectly ordinary
As though typical. Even the juvenile adolescents
You seemed to have suckered into thinking you were perfection,
Served as a limit
To keep you true.
Till your real dream
Bored senselessly into the minds of ours
The dream with the smoking gun. For a long time
It went unhitched 
many hadn’t even realized that they had been hit,
Or tricked,
Or that you had corrupted their minds clean through--
To bury your poison deep within the heart of the mass.


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