Kit Kelen #1180 - the problem of democracy

1180

the problem of democracy

woke full of hope

handing out

for humanity, for the future

knowing what needs to be done

in my green shirt, in my green socks

shielding bright from the sun

there’s a little bird loves the glass

can’t get in and hits again

so this is where we’re up to?

blame the victims, curse roadkill

they come into vote

the massacre smirkers

lovers of progress cherish a privilege

don’t you tell me

to have an enemy just vote

then you’ll be better than

thugs who train their dogs to bite

roll laughter round, wave flags

chainsaws, dozers, backhoes

engine bigger than yours, much

eyes averted

wilful in ignorance

they do not know the past

but they vote for it again

I woke full of hope and handing out

saw the sneer, could cope with

sly undiscovered rapists

who love their puppy

know how unclean all others are

at least not like them

here’s some circumcision

cruelty has a vote

kiddyfiddlers and the oh-so-righteous

might be one in the same

the sheep and the cattle vote

a lump of coal and iron-strong silence

bent minds enter the polling place

wife beaters, tree haters

the killers of koalas

how humourless their laughter

believe in their own retribution

beginning and the end of wisdom

kind their fathers dealt

the monsters vote

the unborn will cast their lot for revenge

who’ll vote to reap as they sow?

the not-very-bright

vote for more light, again

then the whole of this world

is in on the act

the upper house must be heaven

the animals eaten, the trees cut, burned

dinosaur bones – who’s telling the truth?

and judgement!  they are full of it

won’t be judged

I have as much right as any

a frog came in to vote

and wanted more mosquitoes, flies

science now, and a storm is voting

flood and a drought

the sun comes over

it’s not a very funny joke

I vote for the freedom to burn

in my green shirt, in my green socks

shielding bright from the heavens above

here they come, build up to tear down

the prisoners of a radio

the market and the press

they have the right

to make others suffer

orders come from high in the city

the mind of sloth obeys

hold off the flood, walk through the fire

it’s a secret ballot

ignorance is an empire now

simpletons who trust a fool

follow a how-to over the cliff

just give me some hating

a bitter vote

for something brighter, cheaper, best

and bust your balls

I have read the promise

don’t believe them

all the same

won’t make any difference

how was it the Nazis got in?

artists, writers, the dancers

those who sing, those deep in thought

the shyest birds come to the place

it is the highest of our imperfect forms

hit heads on the glass again

would have wished to swim in this mirror

I have to write the numbers myself

I vote for the illusion of love

for humanity, for the future

knowing what’s to be done

it is the bubble I believe in

down to a song and gone

this old world spins  

that’s how we get over the line

how ugly, secret I am unseen

best thing thought up so far

and the only way to go on