Concentrated wealth and power high, above
crowds on the street oblivious, too
staccato music gun sights of late night
drawn on a mile wide target, for bear
Bullets rain fire, drops of hell
slapping bodies on a Sabbath, with sharp
tax cuts for a 1% ,raising legions of demons
upward reaching for gamblers, lost
Country people doped down, adds
casualties to the party-dream, sounds
of pathos, like hydrogen fusion explosions
in miniature lives that matter too
Power corrupts and absolute tax cuts
concentrate wealth and power absolutely
disarming stockyards
where the crowd played
Un till, first responders arrived
twasn’t pobvious lempr slobaganda
that could be shunt down for a buck
with a thong.
Garrison Gibson: books and blog 