To hell with the bureaucratic bloat!
All its members march off like scarecrows
To that big roaring fire that is their collective destiny
You can see that they are afraid
Straw down-turned to inspire pity
Don’t be fooled!
Even sadness can be Machiavellian
Says the dictator
At the first sign of weakness
They’ll happily come marching back
Writing industriously in their offices
Gesturing at ghosts
And the phones married to them
Stamping reports with aplomb
Nodding sagely at unheeded air
This is the hell that they
Would place on you
Without so much as a second thought
Something wet he tripped on
A little too ripe for his tastes
But unavoidable all the same
He blamed the words
Told them they were wrong
Even though the source
Was as presidential as they come
His counterpart was a tyrant from the future
Across the murky world of fish and coral reefs
Similar things were said
Except one word was slanted too steeply
Now He of the Mighty Famine
Right before those fatal movements
He trips. He soars.
Transporting ballistic national pride
Above the inspiring waters
What happened to the fourth leaf?
Was it eaten?
Squished in the hand of a tyrant?
Blown away by the blind storm?
The storm was selective with its hand
Weaving destruction delicately with a soothing aftermath
No one thought to check on the old schoolteacher
Or the silver-haired man rocking his life away
Not even the hunched over patron of the river
A rising tide
Obscured a sky splitting into a thousand pieces
And the merciless theft of a clover’s fourth leaf
Nature crafts a web of sorts
Deal with it
Sometimes I just want to focus on one thing. But there are just so many enticing possibilities out there. I’m not happy unless multiple versions of me are chasing down each and every last one.
Is that a valid way to live? Hellifiknow
I’m finding it to be immensely helpful! It’s another pellet of hope, at least.