Notes From Excusitania

Communication in the palm of our hands
compacting the ends of earth
diminishing distance to map scale
and as the world shrinks
we grow closer to peace
the best of times advances
feel like it, it may not seem
plagued as our emerging unity of tribes is
by sudden violent hiccups of terror and the beastly
loosening of morality in war
still, our harmonious contentment
marches forth, outstripping
the pace of bloodied boots on the ground
humanity improves – the crowd unmaddens
and we turn inward amidst all of this
crawling inside out – digging in
to find the excuses for why
as societies improve
we individuals do not
and this it turns out is our raison d’être
our rétar dûd, the rascal drug
to cure us of deficient attention
our surfeit of cultural pressures
who amongst us is not the way we are
because of external circumstances
spousal depression, parental neglect
mentally abused by Twinkie cake
government flu shots
the food pyramid making us fat
but in success and happiness
we will be hard pressed to find
anyone turning down the easy lines of credit
destined to bankrupt us
in our newborn days of greater compassion and care
there is only one enemy, becoming slowly clearer
as the boards of stage whither and warp
the truth behind
the illusion of our personal failings
is exposed
the agent provocateur stands naked
on display
in the bitter lights
obscenely jigging out of step
unmelodious
an aberration of the new age
taking, destroying – fanning and nurturing our epidemic
of self-loathing destruction…
it is the banks
it is the insurance companies
child labor and sweat shops
it is union busting
it is industrial deregulation
pharmaceutical monopolies and day traders
it is living in Excusitania
where the poor are blamed for all the ills of the poor
and no excuse is spared for the endless appetites of the rich

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