Tag Archives: greed

THE PROBLEM WITH US

The problem is that
people have to have more
and more
in order to fill in the holes
in themselves
in each other
in the hours
in the empty spaces.

And so we dig
and gouge
and scrape
and burn until
there is nothing left
with no regard
or respect.

We don’t want to know
how things work
as long as it
works for us.

We don’t understand
how to appreciate
a world
that we do not
live in fear of.

We have made
things far too
easy
for and on
ourselves.

We have forgotten
the lion
the bayonet
the plague
the hunger
the fire the scars
the blood dripping from
a thousand crosses
the terrors the deaths
the darkness
at the end of every street.

But these things
don’t just
go away they are
still there
so far back and
just around the corner
sharpening their
knives
their teeth
their resolve
they are honing in and
approaching like a
thick blanket
a moonless night
a killer in a crowd.

They’re coming
-it’s coming.
-It’s here.

And it’s about time.

So Let it Rain All Over the World

I watch the rain pelt
the other side of the window
and I think of
dead spirits in new engines
of men that are not men anymore
of fake plastic glitter neon entrances to pain.

I think of dolls filled with snakes
and smiles that lure you into bottomless pits.
I think of how money has driven the world insane
and is now driving it into the grave.

I think about how the men that preach values
are the same ones that steal from our pockets
and how we let them
not just year after year
but decade after decade.

I think about how our positions in life
are archaic dreams
manufactured by our fathers
in a world
they could not prepare us for
as they leave us
with much less
than they had worked to build.

I think about how our flags
have been rendered obsolete
by logos
how our heroes have become villains
and our virtues
liabilities.

I think about how we have sold ourselves
to each other
to the point where
we have all become vending machines
of two-minutes ideologies.

I think that the weight of the farce
is collapsing the institutions
made of glass
and if a twelve-year old would
provide scrutiny on any situation
it would be of more value
than what the common mass
could collect.

I think that we know it’s bad
but we just don’t want to
do anything about it
as long as were supplied with fresh consoles
and stale sitcoms.

I think that we are more than lost
I think that we are damned
by ourselves
in this wasteland
of metal and plastic
of lost souls and bright lights
of angry children
of easy credit
and destiny served
on a silver platter of complacency.

I watch the rain pelt
the other side of the window
and for a moment
I think of nothing at all

so let it rain
all over the world.