I guess I’ve not written it
All of us living
In prisons
Been giving it
More than a second thought
Crime
I’m reliving it
Living in times
Where the country
Is dying inside
A transition
From freedom to tyranny’s
Trite
Repetition
Again the same playbook
Dismantle the government
Double misspeaking
It’s they who are running it
Straight into private
Conflictual interests
All at your expense
And yet…
None of your business…

Dispelling the shadows
Of ignorance
Luminous
Lost in the night
Guiding light
From the numinous
Sent unrelenting
Spent afterlives
Venting
And so incrementally
Turned to attentively
Tending
And blending
The seed  
And the breed
To collectively learning
To write
And to read

Roaming
My home again
Thrown to oblivion
Reading too much
Teenage angst-
Driven
Drama
So full of despair
And yet,
Missing the comma
Disarmed of my otherwise
Harmony
Polity
Suddenly thoughts
Are released from
Frivolity
Volumes outspoken
As two cents
And comments
And compliments
Seldom
But feedback composed
By thine hands
That have held them
At odds
With my former
Identified
Self
Undeserving of living
Afflicted
I felt
So addicted
To fearing
To others
Would spread
What my dismal contagion
Virulently dreads,
Permeates
Every inch
Every crevice
Recesses of mind
And as not
But a writer
I cured it in time

Won’t forget
Who in debt
Puts the food on my plate
Got me tech
To connect
Us together
It’s great
Like a state
Entered into
Ensuring its promises
Profits
Provisions
Protecting
Its provinces
Offices staffed
Bureaucratically stacked
With such cracks
In the surface
As terrorists backed

How to just
Keep it
Authentic
I’ve vented
To many
A night
Out of sight
I’ve attempted
To plead with
To reason
To grieve no more
Difference
To bridge
Ever-widening rifts
Across distance
But this is
The way
I must do it
To build
What more powerful men
Exact tolls
To be spilled
To be billed
For its use
Mine are few
And obtuse
All too weakling in nature
Too quick to the noose
Of emoting
End noting
And doting    
In passion
Though sharp is the tip
Of the spear
That I fashion

Was not my intent
Hadn’t yet known
What I’d regret
Just a stone’s throw
From my ethics
In retrospect
Wrecked the supposedly
Secular
Disconnect
Yet disaffected
Too many
Apostate
Deported,
Extorted,
Aborted
Across state
The spate of creation
Debates
Predicated
On property values
And prices
Inflated
And yet there are shortages,
Mortgages,
Outages
Power imbalances,
Palaces,
Malices
Too big to tax
From dark money to cash
All so [sic]lically
Writing me out of the past

Don’t let me go
Get me crazily talking  
About the impossible future
We’re walking
The path of the wayward souls
Reaper is stalking
The warmongers’ hordes
Are so liberally
Hawking
Incessantly squawking
Gets nothing
But old
Every tech exec’s
Former morality
Sold
So don’t shift me
So swiftly
Back to my opponent’s
Preferred
Most expedient truth
In the moment
For mine
Is in rhyme
Out of timeless
An omen
And showmen
Beholden
Invisible hands
Have all folded
Theirs filled
With supplies
My demands
To compliantly
Privately
Master the plans
The grand scheme of things’
Theory strings’
Recognized
Brands
Come to shambles again
No more vaults to defend
No ignoble stock
Options
They’d have left to spend