Poems and Poetry

Squeezed | A Poem by Guy Farmer

They cackle with delight,
Dead eyes scanning,
Almost disbelieving their
Outlandishly good fortune.
All the controls lifted,
Free to do as they please.
Every sentinel paid off to
Look the other way,
Pretend the pecuniary
Slaughter is a fabrication.

A carefully orchestrated
Assembly line pumps out
Shoddy detritus destined for
Complacent rubes who
Acquiescently walk up,
Eager to be fleeced by their
Destructors.
Squeezed from every direction
Until no option remains but to
Join the nameless.


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