Does history repeat,
or does it rhyme?
Like the lingering smell
of a **** in an elevator,
or is it something more…?
Perhaps our humanity is merely a stain
on a cycle of atrocity and pain,
that defines modern mankind.

Another day
another headline
Another outrage
by design
Intent on shielding our eyes
While the crimes and lies
Happen in real time,
Live
              Breaking
streaming
               Online
Holding the line
Punching our time
At work by nine
Home by five
To wine and dine
And pretend we’re fine
Because it’s all
just
the
times
Normalized

A red breasted bird
Perched on a wall
Absorbed in its world
Not worried at all.
Unconcerned by the height
And unaware of its weight
it nimbly takes flight
As I ponder life’s fate.
I envy the bird,
That can lift on a breeze,
Tied down by my mind
As a roof to its eaves.
Like the red breasted bird
I too perch on my wall
Absorbed in my world,
But worried I’ll fall.

Where were you
when our democracy died?
I was watching cartoons,
with my child by my side.
Ambiguously aware
of our dangerous slide,
as trusted family and friends
say it’s all in my mind.
Safe, for now, in my skin
amongst my “own kind,”
until the day comes,
we are asked to align…
Will we then remember the day
our democracy died?

Imagine what the history books will say
Looking back on this time we’re in
What will the verdict be for this day?
Will we toast to our glory,
or be shamed by our sin?

The golden calf commands!
Lower your gaze!
Bind your hands!
Pretend the lies
That raze the lands,
That **** the soul,
Are not the plans
Of a golden…
*******