The half-time show. The pledge. The inaugural ball.

The wedge and the phalanx. The vacancies of the court.

The intermission. The cartoon and the short.

The kid becomes a killer, dodges Saul

at least a dozen times. He takes the hall,

the palace, the strategic eastern port.

A prophet tells a tale. The World Report

transmits the virus that will condemn us all.

The pop-ups multiply. The code is hashed.

Auguries and signs. The sacrifice

is not accepted. Wait for flame and ice

at the metro stop. The budget’s getting slashed.

So keep it on the down-low, quiet mice.

The bell is rung. We close at market price.

started before the West African coast, started before the invasion force

started before the truly heinous shit, before King Philip’s War

started when every swinging dick swaggered like a sheriff’s star

started when the white people decided they were a thing called “white”

started when some Huguenot girl found a pink-grey nautilus shell

started with Elizabeth’s ruffled collar lightly grazed

started with a fancy hat a fancy ring a fancy staff

started with a riddle from a statue in the desert

started from a plant that burned itself up in the desert

started when the stylus was first lifted from its cradle

started when amphibians pulled their tails to land and stayed there

started when the protein chains compounded. Then it started

It might have started with a fist

– this is really all conjecture –

at the end of a bicep cocked like a hammer

trained and toned by hefting a spear

– but then again, experts speculate – 

it could have been after planting stakes

and wheat and corn and olive trees

– the evidence is scant but could be telling –

that it started with ziggurats and clerk’s offices

and raising temples to obscure ideas

– survey says, crime blotter tells –

it began when she did something

he couldn’t do or even rightly understand

– this is speculation now, weaving narratives –

it all came from chemicals, splitting cells

and was always going to shake out this way

– the tablets and scrolls omit this point –

he did it because it just felt right,

because he did. Because he could.

Yeah, I marched

at least two or three times

emailed my Senators

filled out some forms

watched several documentaries

donated a few simoleons

here and there

followed some accounts

deleted some others

mostly watched in horror

as learned helplessness

washed over me

like a sea of blood

and then wrote this.

is it does and doesn’t

exist, hides in day

light hearings, cocktail

parties, drawing room

discussions, a tumor

the scan is meant

to hide, gradual

poison delivered

by longships and

Reapers and clipped

vowels in prestige

limited series

that approach the horizon

of infinity

like a night sky

negative, blank blind

expanse broken up

to our chagrin

by the illumination

of the dark

we’ve never known

how much

we need.

“What the bourgeoisie therefore produces,

above all, are its own grave-diggers. “

– Engels, Marx

When merch goes EOL and the NASDAQ starts to turn,

when head honchos minimize SKU’s to boost ROI,

when bean counters ask the front lines to look into COBRA,

when the poetics and politics run different OS’s,

when the CFO’s emails are all ATTN: and RE:

and your VPN and VOIP dip way into TARFU

and the BofA balance redlines into FUBAR

we know for whom the opening bells toll –

it’s all commie memes LOL as capital digs us deep.