Kindness on the Potomac
Dedicated to The Ruling Class*
The snow rides a black wind, it impartially freezes
kills back flower faces to skull sockets of seed
starves the world’s belly, blunts the high sun
yet it’s kindness itself next to you.
The fur culling hawk wind-dances the thermals
balled eye in gilt swivel beaming out death,
piercing the long distance to one beating heart
soon killed and consumed, yet it’s kinder than you.
The greed dappled locusts in brown thrashing turmoil
fantastically replicated, fall from burnt sky
devour green grain, beat stripped stems to dustmotes
then dine on their brothers, yet they’re kinder than you.
The sybarite housecat, with no hammer of hunger
in play lets the mouse run then absently strikes,
since it can, makes the weak thing a wee broken pulp.
No kindness here, but still kinder than you.
All these have no choice. They live blind a brief breathing
where the matrix is master, murder life’s instinct,
play hunger’s practice, survival sole mandate.
For you, it’s all fool’s gold to pay for your toys.
I’ve seen how you smile. May it rot to a bone rictus
in an unquiet grave, where all of your eloquence
ennui’s the worms. That blessed silence dark and forever,
would be the beginning of kindness from you.
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*excepting from this tirade Rep. Bernie Sanders(I) of Vermont and possibly three or four other elected officials to whom it doesn't apply