They Are
or They Are Not
or They Are Not
and Then
They use masks and make-up to conceal their earned faces
Poo poo- pouting at themselves
When they face the mirror
seeing they can never really hide
the sneer lines, veining into contempt lines
veining into haughtiness pockets
depressed into their eyes
like the lines
tangling their brain paths
in and out of lies and truths
And understanding no real value
Or difference between the two.
The grown-up, agreed upon cultural lie
So they made Santa faces to seemed judged so good that Santa rained toys upon them
a n d k I n d a f o r g o t
They wanted to be at the CENTER of the SANTA CLUB, TOO.
They pounce upon one another’s pallets with delectable sweetness, in beautifully crafted pastries
Surrounding
Themselves
With social agreements
Not to shatter the illusion.
Do they know who they are, after they’ve crafted their illusions
Corrupting delusions of fairness and goodness
Where their rules say they always win
“The cosmetically deformed dancing to their overproduction”
Such is the response to calls for accountability -
“Not it. I’m rubber, you’re glue.”
Their first mistake was to forget that we can still see them
and the debased cookie crumbs
Still skirting their mouths
Stinking of their vices
While they play games
with living pieces
with living pieces
Today
---------And cumulatively
W h i l e p l a n n i g f o r o u r f u t u r e s .
W h i l e p l a n n i g f o r o u r f u t u r e s .
And we count ourselves
At least blessed
In having a door
To close and open
At our discretion.
Truth or Lie.
We choose.
We don’t have to play with them.
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