Sons of Cain

painting by vincent valdez

Sons of Cain

"It is the first responsibility of every citizen to question authority."
--Benjamin Franklin




The Man, the Man, always the goddamn Man, everywhere--

the deadly deaf mute of discipline,

the bastard boss, haughty honcho, belligerent badass.

First the blinding glare off the silver badges,

then the oaken baton in your gut,

the pump shotgun pointed at your head;

his tiny red pig-weasel eyes squinting,

rat saliva at the corners of his maggot maw,

barking rules, spouting hate, cuddling cruelty.

You must always beware of the Man,

do as he demands,

stay in your cubicle,

never leave your neighborhood,

step out on green,

halt absolutely on red,

put your credit card into the breath-o-meter,

do not lose your spoon,

do not forget your fucking number,

you must never speak your mind,

never congregate in groups,

never hold up hand-made placards.

Bend low and respect the Man, fear

his might, power, shiny boots, great rowelled spurs,

and his darkly tinted robo-visor.

All you brethren must blend seamlessly

or the Man will focus his considerable wrath

on you, your family, your children, your friends,

and from the intestines of hell,

from dungeons unseen,

from row upon row of shallow graves,

will come the cries of those already destroyed,

all mingled into a single throbbing wailing

that will shatter windows and break spirits,

from those who stood up to the full blast,

whose words are slain by riot winds,

who were crushed down without epitaphs,

and no doubt you will weep for them,

reach out to them, but take care

not to have to join them.

Glenn Buttkus

June 2012

Posted over on dVerse Poets-FFA

Would you like to hear the author read this poem to you?