The Inevitable

Who writes poetry about governments? Said
the sad and angry man, sitting on a grey beach
his hands dug deep in the sand…pulling up
handfuls that slide away into nothing.

It is like this, he muses, it feels solid to grab
like there is something there but when you look
gravity and physics rob it of its permanence
you are left holding nothing but the idea.

Politics in my country, the one I was born and
raised, taught and tethered to my whole life
It is not what it was, it will never be what it is
it is on a trajectory of failure while we watch

My country is not the same, it changes, it evolves
it becomes less and more, more and less until
it is not what it was, until what it was is nothing
compared to what it might have been.

A shift is happening where the people who do
are being overcome by the people who don’t,
who vote for their interests, not the interests
of all…until the inevitable happens

The inevitable is that in our benevolence, in our
compassion, in our want/need/desire to save
to help we shift resources towards the negative
flow, toward building bigger to help more

More hope, more programs, more compassion
we think, we build, we enlarge, we extend
until the government is all because we believe in
helping, in reaching out, in love for people

And the inevitable…the bill for this largesse, for
this compassion, for this help we so desperately
want to spread…this bill we deliver to our children
as we put the yoke on their shoulders

The inevitable is a nation of old people being
served by another nation of young slaves, it is
another nation because they do not live/work
together, they can’t, they fight, they war

Guarded compounds of old people, union retirees
guns and barbed wire, built by a compassionate
far reaching government that just wanted to
help, fueled by the tattered dreams of youth

It is happening and seemingly can’t be stopped
because we are compassionate and stupid
deeply sorrowful and broadly unaware…of the
idea that there is nothing for free

Who writes poetry about governments? It is always
people who look back on what once was…and the
sad and angry man stands up and walks away
sand falling from his open hands.

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