Shock Doctrine
We battle and quibble over numbers,
twenty, or forty, or fifty-three percent.
The bottom squeals as the beast still lumbers
over their desperate bodies. Screams will rent
the air that no one hears because all fight
for their own small crumb and piece of turf.
Paperwork splatters blood against the light.
The casualties mount and the suits will laugh
at fools eating their own. They too well know
that the greater the battle among their minions
that much greater the profits that will grow
in their hands. No need for shared opinions
of how the peasantry has been bullied,
none seem to notice that they are enslaved.
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