This, Our Country by Chris Lloyd

 

in its tiny global space
surrounded by wet
fueled by greed
of the big boys
as ordinary people
need help
support
plagued by isms
disparity of citizens
law and order
corrupt

bottom heavy
top light
an anachronism
of itself
a whale floundering
a ship grounding

what glorious
past?
its young men
conned
time
and
again
heroic lions
dead
driven to battle
into slaughter
no
they did
not stop
they died instead
what pride
but
what a price
to
pay
for land grab
by those who sat at
long tables
with strong liquor
and fat cigars
and yet those like them
still
rule
our
very existence

so
what prayer to say
to a god
that cannot hear
what futile war
will be next
prayers won’t help
they
never help reality
get a grip
we do not want
do not need
any more