poem 444 of a poem a day for 2012

knee deep with angels, in the mirror

I assign myself

to humankind's

port-a-potty purgatory

with a miner's light

and a dictionary

I don't mind

the stink

of our demons

so much as the gilded filth

of a money market system

having finite resources

causes greed

to be globally endemic

needing a fence and

reasoning to keep others out

this is the ultimate

nerve tonic and

its only cost is

every living heart and soul

so we turn on our televisions

and we buy into segmented

holiday hatred and

we find a corner

to protect with guns and

limited fatal vision

because you see

the dark doesn't care

what your motivations are

as long as you target

someone else to blame

EJR ©