You can step into the same story twice
but you’ll never get it off your boots.
Empire’s like that and the green-eyed
visionaries who would make their jurisdictions
power-houses, will fall for the next
hip-swaying global corpsamatic who shinnies up
in a thigh-rub with his (the nation’s) wallet
semi-hard in his poche.
Before the racist policy of the Residential School,
the Brits tried it on themselves. Their
power-crazed elites sent away their off-
spring to prep schools to learn the sadistic
ways of running Empire: learn (Ouch) the proper
way (Christ that hurt) of making a world fit
(It’s for your own good) for their own good class.
Empathy shares only three letters with empire
& is for wimps & weaklings. “God bless
our gracious … True patriot love ….” As long as
those delusions hold the tongue that tells the story
is a usurper’s tongue, the tongue that lashes
truth to the foremast of the sinking ship
to the music of Pierre Poutine’s Prerogative
or is that Sneak’s Noise? No matter,
they’re about to be drowned out by
that tribe they call Red.
Pete Smith, 2014