What hollow, caustic foulness lies behind the neatly edged hedges,
fences, plastic window frames and glass?
Resting, waiting to be woken, scream what now must not be spoken
Blood-lust of a gutless middle class
What simple lies must needs be told in bold authoritative tones
To activate the drones and make them fight -
To know, that if the call should come they'd march to that benighted drum
And sacrifice intelligence for right?
How big a monster must be built to shoulder guilt for every creeping fear
and insecurity and loss,
Till every hip and critical disclaimant finds a reason for believing
and then carries it, across.
How many layers must be stripped to tip the wretched shreds of indecision
into morals blown apart
And harmless bigot who, at work, was tolerated with a smirk
Now drives a dirk into a stranger's heart?
Now doctor, teacher, business leader, well-respected educated man
proclaims his harmlessness anew,
Make no mistake: the quills are fine and ready as the porcupine
prepares to show what harmless beasts can do.
This one was partially dreamt. 'Dirk' is a Scottish dagger.