Ruthless Anti-social

“more stout than his fellows”  Daniel 7: 20

“Me Me Me tick hell טphart’s son”  Daniel 5:25

Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem

We see a “man” who tarnishes true gold

Which can’t be tarnished.  Dirt it isn’t.  No.

The harm is permanent.  He now is old

Enough to polish evil tricks and so

His youth and middle age were too ill spent.

He learned to ruin everything he’s touched.

The good he found is tarnished and he’s bent

It into crippled shapes.  He’s also smutched

The things he doesn’t own, that others built

Across five centuries.  He has done this with

His gobbling greed and by applying gilt.

He’s done all this by trumping freedom’s myth.

  Hold up your torch.  No!  Higher, Liberty,

Lest he should grasp it, shouting, “ מ מe!  מ מ e!  מ מ E!”

© Phillip Whidden