This poem is for the comfortable ones.
For the bureaucrats who exist to insure their existence.
For the civil servants who are not civil and do not serve.
For the teachers who teach what to think but don’t know how to think.
For the policeman who serve capital and protect property.
For the doctors selling health, the lawyers selling justice, and the politicians selling their souls.
For the upwardly mobile, down pressing, respectable, well mannered, individualist.
For the use-to-bees, claim-to-bees, and wanna-bees.
This poem -is for the wealthy ones.
For their peace absent justice, structurally adjusted, debt servicing, payment balancing, neo-liberal globalization.
For the owners, spoilers, movers, shakers, high rollers, day traders, money changers and their armies of analyst, managers, lawyers, accountants, and consultants.
For the Barclays, Gates, Openhiemers, and Rockefellers,
For placing profit above progress, markets above development and the bottom line above human life
This poem is for the rulers.
For the invisible government behind the government, the transnationals behind the invisible government and the class behind the transnationals, behind the invisible government, behind the government.
For the puppet makers, the puppeteers, the puppets, and the ties that bind them.
This poem is for the acronyms.
For the UN, WB, USA, IMF, WTO, ABC, NBC, CBS, CNN, TNT, FBI, CIA, IRS, NSA, SS, EEC, BBC, AFL, CIO, and the whole damned imperialist alphabet.
This poem is for Mr. In-between.
For the, brown nosing, mediating, facilitating, vacillating, arbitrating, negotiating, yes bossing, butt kissing, fence sitting, liberal, reformist, opportunist, middleman.
For the used to be revolutionary, x-socialist, former Marxist, retired black-panther, x- Pan-Africanist, x-nationalist, was once anti-this that and the other, militant turned content to
This poem is for the intellectuals.
For the reactionary right-wing ideologues, philosophers, meta-physicians, theologians, think-tankers, propagandist, producers, agents, writers, lyricist, poets, novelist, editors, publishers, printers, historians, sociologist, psychiatrist, psychologist, market managers, wholesale & retail distributors of the sham the lies and the cruel hoax.
This poem is for the spies.
For the intelligence agencies, the operatives, informants, infiltrators, eavesdroppers, wire tappers, video surveillancers, satellite photographers, record keepers, data analysts, pollsters, and privacy invaders.
The poem is for the mercenaries.
For the armies of armies, the murderers, torturers, assassins, thieves, sellouts, back-stabbers, ethnic cleansers, provocateurs, saboteurs, environmental terrorist, traitors, Judas-like, double dipping, both ends against the middle, goes to the highest bidder, death squad, goons, and self-serving thugs.
If you stand among the wealthy, rulers and their acronyms, middlemen, intellectuals, spies, and mercenaries, you are one of the comfortable ones, and this poem is for you.
This poem does not to ask you to relinquish your comfort,
It does not implore you to care.
It is not to tell you of the immorality of your actions.
It is not to inform you of the consequences of your exploits.
This poem does not want to reform you,
educate you or beg you to change.
This poem is to let you know that we see you, hear you, scrutinize your every action and are recording your every crime.
This poem is a literary arrow let fly into the world of words with the conscious intent of penetrating your sub conscious, to plant a seed of doubt that Interrupts and disrupts your repose, arrest and upsets your peace and quiet and intrudes upon your contentment.
This poem is the malignant concept that penetrates your calm demeanor and silently grows into the terminal cancerous result of your conspiracy against humanity. This poem is meant to disturb, to disturb you, to disturb your comfort. So, when you lie down to sleep each night, please think of this poem, and remember, it was written just for you.