Fascism’s Forest

All together now! Puppet faces others, all with raised hands

Every time he speaks

I hear the bluster and the lie

and what my mother taught me

about empty barrels

making the loudest noise

bubbles up inside

And I wonder how

the plainly evident

gets skewed in the eyes

of so many others

what did their mothers

teach them about

boisterous bullies and

skirt-chasing scoundrels

Perhaps the words

were never spoken

or maybe only as a token

and so,

we have the lost and broken

Unable to separate

the shit from shinola

they bend to the viciously simplistic

The fake paternalistic

Father-knows-best

how to rule the rest

They never question

they simply fall in line

No matter the level of asinine

As we march democracy

towards that empty pit

in fascism’s forest

we hope against hope

that eyes will open

before that final blast

to the back of the head

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