Fear is my Co-Pilot

image borrowed from niul.org

Fear is my Co-Pilot

“We can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark;

the real tragedy in life is when men are afraid of the light.”

--Plato.

I get up to fear

fixing my breakfast, & then

plotting my whole day.

How can those horrible hordes

swords

of pious pugnacious patriots ever break out

shout

of the mucus-lined terrible trenches

stenches

of scintillating sonorous sorrow,

tomorrow

finally elude the fallacious daydream of mink-gloved 

garish greed, whereby their red-necked pitiful palaces,

located dully dead-center in the vacuous wasteland of

vast rust-bucket trailer parks, 

                 their shaved-head vicious visage, 

                 their colorful prison/biker tattoos,

                 their White Supremacy bilious booklets,

                 their brutish benevolence, &

                 their mandatory attendance at KKK kamikaze camp-outs

& asinine Aryan Nation rallies all along the Idaho prick’s panhandle,

ALL seems to be rigorously righteous

       within their fascist fallacies &

                 their American Nazi fantasies,

       wherein Donald Trump could lead,

                     Jeb Bush could rig an election,

                     Glenn Beck could advise,

                     Sarah Palin could govern, &

                     Michelle Bachmann could join the Supreme Court.

I swear, every damn day, it seems

another mad dog murderer walks into

                     a bustling super mall,                     or

                     a full movie theater,                        or

                     a rural elementary school,              or

                     a starched recruiting office,            or

                     an unsuspecting Navy yard,           or

                     a slumbering military base              or

                     a commonplace commuter train      or

                     a salami-scented delicatessen        or

                     an infidel’s cartoon convention.

armed with a Russian AK-47 &

a dozen crammed lethal killer clips                      & sprays

                       soft-nosed brass-headed bullets like

                   demon rain into random bystanders;

              furiously fueled by Islamic deadly double-speak,

                                       by chest-splitting hate-mongering mentally

unstable conditioning,    by sadly surreptitious other-directing,

                                       by deceitful vacations to Syrian sack-of-shit

combat training camps   by pissy-promises of beauteous martyrdom,

                                       by too many moronic choices, 

                                       by unfortunate easy access to firearms,

                                       by trading Jesus for Allah--

although the dark dastardly denizens

that speak for either of them have twisted

love into larceny,

compassion into terror,

insecurity into paranoia,

stupidity into pride, &

dimples into death.

Yet in my idealist’s heart, I hope/believe/pray that the insidious insanity

of misplaced nationalism, the larcenous lure of fictitious personal power,

the rise of punk-bitch pride & thuggish bullying, grinning cruelty, limitless

capitalistic kopecks--could be somehow redirected onto a brighter sun-

dappled landscape, into that socialistic democracy as espoused by

Saint/Senator Bernie Sanders, where every unrealistic dream of equality,

perfect equity, unfettered freedom, & unharnessed honesty could come

true, where our fabulous fantasies of brotherhood could create heaven

in Helena, could reverse global warming, could curb billionaire’s choke

holds, defeat lobbyists & paid-for politicians, or actually practiced as 

good deeds by the dying Jimmy Carter.

I would love to just

awaken in a world where love

outranked hate; amen. 

          

Glenn Buttkus

Posted over at dVerse Poets Pub Poetics