Seeing the Light
The same names keep coming up,
all the usual suspects,
but they give the illusion
of being many.
The same faces surface
the bugaboo’s,
the clown-faced devils.
We are taught to listen
without thinking,
to drink in
only their thoughts.
A critical mass is reached,
at last the sheep
are teaching themselves
to be sheepdogs.
Now we are watchful
of the wooly flock.
We will not drink
their watery beers.
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