Carl Sandburg, Updated

                                                                   Washington, DC

                                                                   Policeman of the World,
                                                                   War Maker, Stacker of Bodies,
                                                                   Player with Drones and the Nation's Fear Monger
                                                                   Pompous, yet Skittish, Officious and Unwelcoming,
                                                                   City of the Cold Shoulder.

                                                                   They tell me you are wicked and I believe them, for I
                                                                       have seen how you allow real leaders to be killed,
                                                                       papering over the crimes with fabrications.
                                                                  And they tell me you are crooked and I answer: Yes, it
                                                                       is true.  I have seen destructive financial flimflams go

                                                                       unpunished and rewarded with bailouts, instead.
                                                                   And they tell me you are brutal and my reply is:  Your
                                                                       lawyers and lawmakers have told us that torture, endless
                                                                       incarceration, and even wanton murder—as long as it is
                                                                       done from the air—are all just fine.
                                                                   And having answered so I turn once more to those who
                                                                       sneer at my adopted city, and I shrug my shoulders
                                                                       and say to them:
                                                                   You do everything that is required to get yourself elected
                                                                       and come to our capital city and show me how you will
                                                                       be better.
                                                                   Growing ever larger with hotel-sized houses on former
                                                                       farmland in distant suburbs, here is a giant sucker of blood,
                                                                       blood drained from places where useful things used
                                                                       to be made.

                                                                   Feeling as sly as a privileged fox before an unguarded hen house,
                                                                       clumsily overreaching.
                                                                          Baldfaced lying,
                                                                          Meddling, fumbling, meddling more,
                                                                          Plotting, executing, covering-up,
                                                                   Watching the dust clear, clearing the way for new criminal
                                                                       ventures into dusty lands,

                                                                  Securing the realm by creating counterfeit insecurity,
                                                                   Heedlessly plowing ahead, making and ignoring real
                                                                      insecurity in every corner of the sucked-dry realm,
                                                                   Huffing and puffing out a chest that conceals a shriveled up
                                                                       and dying heart,
                                                                   Coughing the hacking cough of moribund consumption,
                                                                       of a sick old man raging against the dying of the light,
                                                                   Uneasy in his skin, skulking and suspicious,
                                                                   Looking over his shoulder for puppet-master approval,
                                                                   Pompous, Skittish, Unwelcoming, half-ashamed to be
                                                                   Policeman of the World, War Maker, Stacker of Bodies,
                                                                  Player with Drones and Fear Monger for the Nation.


                                                                   David Martin



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