Circum Romani

It’s hard to hide ‘the crazy’, it’s bursting at the seams

as our fearless, brainless ‘leader’ yells, rambles, and screams;

It’s a multi-ring circus with the clowns up front,

Disregarding all the crowd’s needs for their own wants.

Waving shiny banners, having us all play along,

Everyone’s hand over their hearts- singing the same song.

We outdo our Gross-Embarrassment-Product, every day,

DC-Puerto Rico-China-Syria-Ukraine,

And you can’t just blame the main idiot for all the pain,

Oligarchy is the team, and oppression is the game.

Sports are a distraction, TV and movies have been

the-opiate-of-the-masses, plus religion? Man, we’re strapped in.

The Roman Circus used to give bread to the crowds,

events free of charge, and the Romans roared loud,

they would cheer when their victims were killed and dragged away.

The Roman Circus never stopped – the show goes on today. – RSM

The Joys of Civic Duty

Lemme get uhhh dozen talking heads with a side of fries,

Pointing-screaming-yelling telling off all the other guys-

-something Wise, like the owl on the blue bag-of-chips,

everybody’s speaking heavy, but they’re not saying shit-

Tired of the tired lines fed from the big rectANGLEs-to-our-heads, entANGLEd-in -our-heads!

I don’t think it matters who I vote for, honestly,

I wanna be a believer, but the bullshit bothers me.

The world is way bigger then a red and blue bina-ry,

But it is what it is, every single prima-ry.

“I don’t want to be involved, no, not at all,”

But I’m compelled-by-some-spell that I should vote-no matter how small,

Bubble in my scantron, take my quick picks,

Slide my vote in, DM it to my district-

Now my “waste of time” light’s already blinking,

aaannnd back to my cynical way of thinking. – RSM

Classism, Apparent

(Written October 2016)

I see it everywhere. No, really, like, everywhere.

Just like heat evaporates hot water, a heated discussion between any two strangers always comes down to money.

The bigger the bag you carry to work, the lower of a class you belong to.

The way you get to work, the way you’re dressed, puts the haves and have nots on display

We’re all a part of it, this ugly, pyramidal structure that we see every working day.

I’m so desensitized to homeless people wasting away, little by little, right in front of me, but what do I do? Keep my gaze forward, and keep moving, ’cause ‘I got work to do.’

We all have a place to be, to show up by a certain time, and drive the money up for someone else, higher up;

Profits trickle down, sure, but by the time the fresh bounty of ‘profits’ travel to the lowest level,

the paupers have to hang on tight to their earnings while the white-suited man a top the watch tower sips on his gin and mutters under his breath ‘those degenerates need to get it together.’

This is a capitalist’s world, where money is god, and the more ‘god’ you have, the more of a god you are. – RSM

The Protocol

Political personalities putting on a show-

whether their names are Trump, Jong-Un, or Guaidó.

But ‘¡ay Dio!’ is all that comes to my mind,

As another emblazoned nation faces trying times

at the star-spangled hands of imperialist lies,

the bloody game continues of the Lord of the Flies,

they even got a rubric to pull this shit,

oil-rich countries’where they always do this shit:
Step 1: The sanctions, CIA encampments,

Sabotaging the economy and their autonomy.
Step 2: The media, feeding the masses with all the seeds

they need to spin all their dirty deeds,

calling murder ‘peace,’ and all the oppressed ‘freed’,

HUMANITARIAN CRISIS! (built by Yankee greed).

Very few see beyond the headlines, and opinions,

when imperialist media send in all their minions,

and when the time’s right and the stage is set,

we ‘come to the rescue,’ or so they’ve said:
Step 3: Invasion, aka ‘I think this regime needs changing,’

or ‘their leader is crazy,’

New leaders are backed by the capitalist-apparatus

If they’re down to take over, the new puppet for the masses,

And old, defiant leaders, smeared, jeered, deposed,

no longer respected, even if rightly elected.
All it comes down to is who you bow down to,

They’ll either roll in and crown you, or roll you over and clown you. – RSM

%d bloggers like this: