NEW WORLD DISORDER

 

         I stood up

         I spoke out

         I looked around

            I was the only one standing.

 

The State names you

   On its inventory

   As its property

The State proclaims its responsibility for you . . .

The State . . .

   The Fatherland . . .

      The Motherland . . .

         Love it or get crippled . . .

The State . . .

   A thing, a concept . . .

   That cannot be responsible

   Even for itself,

      Much less you.

 

                *

 

There is an eye-stinging reek

   Of cleaning solvents in the air

Yet, there are urine puddles on the floor . . .

Am I in a men's room being cleaned

   Or a dream about Congress?

 

                *

 

"Of the People"

   Confused, disinterested, or worse

   A body politic barely toilet trained;

"By the People"

   Laws written by faceless, unknown legislative assistants

   Or academic think tanks, pawns of the philanthropic trusts

      (there's an oxymoron for you!),

   Passed by high priced politicians,

   Working at the pleasure of a hereditary caste of monied elite,

   Executed and interpreted by the ten thousand petty Napoleons

   Of the regulatory bureaucracy,

   Regionalized into a self-appointing government,

   Bloated, like an aging corpse, beyond Constitutional

   recognition;

"For the People"

   'Cuse me?

   Did you ever get the feeling that

   "The People"

   Are anyone, maybe everyone, but you?

 

                 *

 

               They advise a man

               To stand tall

      --He makes a better target that way!

 

      Spring 96/Summber 97