Mading relieves Manute from guard duty.
They share a meagre meal of millet porridge before
Manute returns to the refugee nation of southern Sudan.
The noon sun is a harsh sentence for a parched tongue but
they talk not of coffee or juice-laden fruit and
rice and lentils are mountain memories their stomachs can ill afford.
Instead they curse the clear skies that rain only strafing jets and
pray for their dry-breasted wives on pilgrimage to the aid station
carrying children swollen with the promise of death.
They snarl rumours about al-Bashir’s lapdogs
in Khartoum growing fat on food intended for them.

Jason waits, informed by cell phone of Laurie's imminent arrival.
He orders a wheat beer, its earth tone inviting on a silver tray and
its musky sweetness washing away a morning of phone business.
The noon sun is a warm blessing through the picture window but
they talk not of haloed hills or the light-laden river and
recession and retrenchment are market memories their ulcers can ill afford.
Instead they debate '63 cabernet versus '74 chablis and
moan about their reconstructed wives driving halfway across town
carrying children swollen with the promise of private schooling.
They snarl rumours about Key's cabinet
in Wellington while wolfing crayfish and Steak Diane.

Another ambulance siren sounds
Another death waits around
Everyday, increasing counts
But its nothing to worry about
We have it under control
Government says
It's fine it's alright
It's just a few people dying

Gruesome rapes the headlines say
But who believes them anyways
It's worse in the neighbouring state
It's their migrants doing it anyways
(We have no proof
But believe it, it's true)
There's nothing we can do except
Wait till the anger wanes
It's fine it's alright
You'll forget it in no time

Poor die of hunger,"why?,
Are you making this statue?.""To unify
For national pride, comes reply
Reason enough to justify"
Payments of millions less cash more kind
Its fine it's alright

Irreversible damage done
To nature and environment
"Well, it's irreversible, so nothing can be done
Just sign a meaningless treaty, a pact
Just for fun"
Climate change its all a hoax
All this science is satanic folks
Just believe us when we say you won't die
The living conditions will only drastically decline
It's fine it's alright

Turn off the TV station
They sell.fake news to this nation
Lapdogs of the opposition
Just believe what The Republic says
And other government outlets
It's truth, all ahem no lies
It's fine it's alright

Wars, genocides
Crisis of humanitarian right
It isn't our fault this time(it is)
Or anytime
There are things that can't be understood
Just agree, it's for your own good
Anyways, you'll.never know
It's fine it's alright

Nothing to eat
Nothing to wear
Nothing to do
But swear
"It's fine it's alright"

Don't get too fiesty  child
(No revolution coming anytime soon)
Rebel all.you want
(We will crush you with our iron fists)
It's your freedom
It's your right
It's a democracy, your government
(Hahahahaha)
It's fine it's alright

Another ambulance siren sounds
Nothing to worry about
Oh it's for you, there's no bed
(As if we care)
Just die
Don't defy(us)
Deny(reality)
Don't cry
No whys
Goodbye
It's fine it's alright

(THERE'S NO POINT IN OPENING YOUR MOUTH
THERE IS NO POINT IN PROTESTING ALOUD
THERE'S NOTHING YOU CAN CHANGE
ITS ALL BEEN DECIDED
WHATEVER YOU WANT TO SAY
ITS ALREADY BEEN SAID

WE'LL STEAL IN FRONT OF YOUR EYES
DO NOTHING, EXCEPT CRIMES
WELL LEAVE YOU IN RUINS
BLAME SOMEONE ELSE
AND YOU'LL STILL ELECT US
CAUSE THERE'S NO ONE ELSE
AND YOU'RE JUST SO DIVIDED

WE ARE THE MASTERS, YOU ARE THE SLAVES
THERE ARE PEOPLE WHO WORSHIP.US BLIND
SO BLIND WONT EVEN BELIEVE WHATS INFRONT OF THEIR EYES
THERE NOTHING YOU CAN DO
EXCEPT REPEAT THESE LINES)

Really, it's fine, it's alright

    -Issued by the loving government of the world

Why women don't want divorce
because they want lapdogs
Well kept lousy lies
truths
husbands may find in freedom.

And he sleeps
Amongst the fisherman,
And the cab drivers,
And he's with me at midnight
Where the devil's hour draws
Closer to the lone sidewalk
And we are all ghosts
And I'm on the edge
Of a proverbial cliff and he's
There with me.

And he is no longer
Jesus of the Chapel
But of the slum dwellers,
Of the motocycle bikers,
Of the sodomites mentioned in
Howl and thought to
Roam the nights unsatiated.

That God.
The one I'm looking for.
The savior with an armsling
And an extensive knowledge
Of *******,
Every position every crack
Every twist and turn.

That God
Who baptized needles pinned
Freshly to tattoos
And made theologians
Out of tax collectors
And Jesus

Whose nails
Were used to tattoo
The words "King" grisly
On his forehead
And he was chiseled
On a cross,
Not hung.

Spurs on his feet licked
Like lapdogs by tongues
Hungry still for love,
Laying at the foot of the
Memory Jesus,
Crying,
All adulterers and profaners
And cheaters and liars all,

Who laugh
And sneer and snipe
In disbelief at his memory.
Ours.
At his clean, pierced hand
Slowly turning to ash
At the weight of our
Ink, face turning to bulletholes
As the chests decay
Into some kind of
Gang war amalgamation,

Tongues swollen,
Organs numb,
***** pierced with rose thorns
And rubbed with alcohol
And lubricant and
Sharp fingernails.

And we weep
As we are transfigured in return,
Each wound a closing scar.

'Not like that, like this,' said the small man,

Rapping his knuckles on my day.

I withhold, and sit back, watching.

He stumbles from one page to the next,

Unsure of his next move.

His veins flex.

I say nothing.

There is nothing to say.


'I lead, you follow,' said the small man,

In denial of the fact that he is more lost than I.

I demur, and sit back, watching,

As he trips over his lapdogs to find his feet.

He doesn't feel their bite,

But takes time to tip them with a treat.

I say nothing.

There is nothing to say.


'We work to live,' said the small man,

Lying to himself while he rows upstream.

I shrug, and sit back, watching.

As he loses his stroke, the doctors gather

With knives in hand for the feast.

Exit cadaver.

I say nothing.

There is nothing to say.

____

Comments welcome

****** are the obedient,
The complacent and the simple,
Content to follow in the shadows of giants,
Until they go out unnoticed like a candle already dimmed.

****** are the single minded,
With thoughts which are not their own,
Placing blind faith in their superiors,
Throwing ethics to the wind.

****** are the loyal lapdogs,
Their true feelings masked,
Striving only for a higher rank
They shake your hand with a dagger in the other.

****** are these slaves,
The mindless majority,
Something less than human,
These obstacles to progress.

Click-clack, click-clack, click-clack, click-clack

Magnified vision, tight body structure, scrunched up hair with fire for a face,

It spews loud language and is accompanied with its infamous sharp swords that stabs your brain,

As you are to be gluttonous with thousands of words  and later to be bulimic on dots and circles,

They can go both ways with extreme tendencies to use loud language or to say that they are force-feeding you,

As you are supposedly to be gluttonous or the lapdog or to be the destructive or the impatient or to be the dumb one,

I mean we all know where we are Placed on the hierarchy, the scrunched-up-hair knows where the destructive ones go, but they’re just bored what else can they do?

And all the same with the dumb ones to be put at a slower pace, but they can’t help that, people just don’t understand that their brain is faster than their hands, what do you think of their handwriting?

And I don’t love lapdogs because they’re loud and do everything you tell them to,

This is mainly because they scare them selves that they’re not trying hard enough and it’s never ever good enough to the see one result that their owner are good with, basically, try-hards,

And this is what the tight-body-structure comes in to, full of these and more.

Then they are ones that don’t spew loud language or have tight body structure and instead have novel face, bejewelled hands and wild hair.

Theses ones speak with laughter and love because they know that is how it should be,

But, sadly, I feel like it’s taking over them and that they learn the hierarchy too well it becomes to a point with just one movements that you are done for.

Tell me, if we all had the same teacher teaching us how to be smart, then if not our parents, teach us love and passion,

What if they taught us how to speak our minds or is that not what they’re doing?

What if the teacher taught us manners or is that not what they’re  doing? Is that how you teach manners to some? You lock them up in solitary confinement but is that teaching how to be kind or is there no time for it?

Is that how you teach?