Worn tents on Skid Row really dry one out.
It makes one wonder. Energy return
declining? Makes one wonder: what about
drill-baby-drill then dry tree? Will we learn
in time to save the day?
American society disintegrates,
so that return of each to his own land
no more United but the Disunited States,
seems much too plausible on every hand.
We’re getting in the way!
It’s like the 1930s on the streets.
Antifa blocks streets, clashes with Proud Boys.
Street battles shake the proles with polar cleats.
Professional protesters preen with toys
that will come due some day
such as those masks with deadman jawbones on.
Struck with a bolt of ideology,
they regimentedly feel put-upon.
They stream out of the muddled middle, flee
where they can have a say
from out the abnegated centre where-
be general thickening, unknown.
One takes positions on the orange man’s hair
with precious time on Earth that is on loan
while ours all gradually gray.
There is a name for all of this, you know.
The oligarchies’ techniques have a name!
Divide-and-Conquer Punch-and-Judy show.
This but a single way they's play the game
at bus stops on the way.
While on His throne the Lord of Yang and Yin,
all things & Everyman & you and yours
takes all Creation for a scenic spin:
some umpteen simultaneous travel tours
beyond the forms of sense perception
time & space
