as another era of echoed ideals,
newly twisted into the same old knots,
is subject of garrulous debates.
Tell us what you think we want to hear
with forked tongues through bleached smiles.
Disguise your voices and hide behind thinly veiled lies
of potential promise for the coming years.
Flaunt the gaunt logic of lives jeopardized
for the sole sake of others’ crude assets.
Explain to us how to dig half of a hole
and as quickly fill it back in with theory.
Surplus dwindled to deficit exponentially
as the buck gets passed, paper thin as it is,
to whoever presently antes up the pot;
’cause calling the kettle black is back in fashion.
The choice to have a voice in muted whisper
isn’t much different than whistling in the dark,
for the face that’s picked to place on the errant body
will never be seen for more than its watermark.
art credit; Kew Watermark