You've been waiting
all along, yes
for this, yes you
allowing for them
bent over two fold
in the fields
in the gardens, trucks
in their scarves, skin
dark eyes gleaming
in the bleak fog
of low-paid overwork
awaiting your notice
of them there, ripe
for a brutal harvest.
Just don't open the door
But you've drunk the liquor
from a powerful still
and do not own
your own mind
your life a farce
a play you must
take your role
too seriously.
Just don't look at the news
You stopped short
of an investigation
into why, why who
in the muck, the mud
the bars, the camps
the courts, the planes
Get them out!
and to make the world
stop twirling
to make the whirling
stand still
you began again
to twist the facts
in your twirling,
whirling mind
and its disorders.
Just walk down any street
You could see hell
arising around you
beatings, kidnappings
death on high seas
erasing all the brown
while you clung
to your bleached faith
to your so-called moralities
floating there
like tainted water
or grain alcohol
in your oily brain pan.
