This is a society of terror.
Everyone has a lawyer, a knife or a glock.
Hair trigger middle fingers and rights.
Nobody is wrong.
Democratic or totalitarian, the citizen is collateral damage.
Called 'friendly fire' when the Government does it
Terrorism if anyone else.
I climb the mountains of the working man's week,
Cresting Wednesday on a prayer.
Longing for the contented valley of the weekend
As I stagger down to Thursday,
Almost tasting Friday
Remembering Saturday's meadows
And hoping for Sunday's cool clear waters.
Without expectation I have no resentment.
Beneath your contempt I know your fear.
It is lonely in death
Knowing no life but for grasping.
Was it trillions you owed
Jean Val Jean still in jail
For a crust
And a child?
Where will you be
With the stem cells of abortus
Spare parts and botox?
When I hear an old love song
Played on a banjo
In the husks of a corn field,
As caribou paw in the snow to the north,
And crocuses awaken to promises of daffodils
Even you too are loved as we all are
How else could it be?
My enemy, my friend.
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