I said I would post this poem every election day until things change. This year, the United States election climate got especially ugly. We fall so easily into the traps held open for us.
We squabble over crumbs on the floor
While the big pile of money… oops… food
Sits on the table just out of reach.
We eat self-help slogans
Never acknowledging that this game
Of life is rigged against us.
Slogans offer little sustenance.
We dance as the puppet masters
Pull the strings.
We follow the magicians’
Sleight of hand
And allow ourselves to be astounded
With their misdirection.
We obsess with details
Refusing to ever see the big picture.
And we are amazed that we remain
Copyright 2013, Kat Micari