"Hack," A Weird Catastrophe Poem

                                                      Hack

it isn’t so easy as all the firemen would have you believe,

tearing out the pages of spellbinding texts

deemed too extraordinary for the populace to get their hands on in full,


wasn’t it the last resort of a desperate man

that brought down the highest altars

of Christendom and beyond

forever and ever amen?


sweetie, who were you looking at just a moment ago,

I couldn’t see them from where I’m sitting,

it’s just a matter of curiosity, please

no admonishment,


when two dozen utility workers lost their lives over the 

marshall valley over the course of a week 

the newspapers stayed hush under the orders of the utility company 

which happened to be owned by the same men who owned the newspaper,

a small group of vulture-headed dolts peering through tinted glass, 

their minds like devious easter eggs left unfound by the children from the year before,


but they all know better than us

and why shouldn’t they?

it comes with the territory of owning bodies and hearts and minds

which are, in fact, all one and the same,


even with the girls passed out on the floor

there’s always something a little bit more 

to take,

it comes with the territory, 

having been stolen and passed down, father to son,


when they know what’s inside of us

but we don’t know what’s inside of them

the only choice we have left is to beg for forgiveness, rebirth,

and a small chance for a role on the winning team.