Snakes And Ladders

A friend once told me of a man,
A deceptive corruption of a person,
A viper,
His skin scaly as sin,
Fangs dripping from previous kills,
Gripping to the world by constriction,

He climbs a ladder of life,
To personal happiness and glory,
At the expense of others,
Each rung is another souls verve,
Innocent obstacles,
Squashing them underfoot,

Whispering lies in one ear,
Hissing threats to another,
Ravaging penniless mice,
Grounding birds of others dreams,
Each step is a test of his malevolence,
And he continues to excel himself,

To his reptilian mind,
Elitism is a virtue,
People are simply tools of advancement,
Existence is a ladder,
A cutthroat meritocracy,
And so he keeps climbing,

On and on.

Strawman Argument

From these shores,
To many others,
Red,
Blue,
Green,
Flag after flag,
Of all stripes,
Strawmen are erected,

Fallacies are spawned,
Ideas are distorted,
And eviscerated,
To sate a tribal idealism,
Debates become bloodbaths,
Scholars lose themselves,
And become cut-throats,
With fallacious dirks,

Being right is the only victory,
Even as sense must be sacrificed,
Herbal teas spilled,
The diplomatic table is in flames,
Chessboards and statistics,
Logic has become smoke,
The strawman still stands.

Eat The Rich

You apathetic dragons,
In your boardroom hoards,
Remember us?
We little people,
The public,
The ever-hungry,

We were the ones,
You trod into the muck,
We were the ones,
You left out in the cold,
We were the ones,
You used in your schemes,

Our chump change wasn’t enough,
You had to take our homes,
And the skins off our backs,
But we’re only animals,
And when we feel cornered,
We’ll even hunt dragons,

When the resources expire,
And the fires burn low,
We’ll climb your piles of gold,
In our dingy rags,
On shattered limbs,
Mad hunger saliva,

You so-called elites,
You’re going down too,
Even your power won’t save you,
From the knives of the poor,
It’s the end for you too,
We’ll eat the rich.

Red Stamp

New Monday.
New week.
Same old work.
Same old desk.
Boss is a bigot.
Bored of life.
Hate working at the warrant office.

Case-file 1.
First of many.
20 something female.
Artist.
No native family.
Boring.
Sentenced to termination.

Case-file 2.
Getting hungry now.
Young infant.
Found on the border.
Parents shot dead by security nearby.
Impressionable.
Sentenced to indoctrination.

Case-file 3.
Young foreign couple.
Boring.
Sentenced to termination.
Can’t wait for work to end.
Hate this tedious job.
Nothing interesting ever happens at the warrant office.

This red termination stamp is getting worn out too.