Cities and suburbs, real and imaginary.

Monday, June 15, 2020

Sonnet #293

If I could explain this slowly to every man and woman
with money, who does not wish to pay for the poor:
You Will Pay More to Hold Them Down If You Do Not Pay For
Giving Them Enough. You will build yourselves golden prisons 
hire armed guards. You'll pay to build a world of panopticons
Because none of them can be trusted if they do not have enough
The cost of policing, surveillance, enforcement, laws so tough
that decent folk fear it, it has a cost in dollars, squatting on
your golden horde is very high. Beyond that cost, you cannot walk
down streets in peace unarmed, you will never know the city
As a place of peace, only as a place where people talk
And power is your only word to share, build your worst kind of pretty
Your empty-eyed children will tremble at your funerary wakes

And the fear you feel could fade with just that little mercy and pity, 

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