They walk. They had started with a run as volatile horror ascends from the death pyre of decency, turning the sunny day grey.
Some of the world sleeps as some sit in pleasure domes, the waiter running with a delicacy laden tray.
Horror has become the next element in the periodic table here;
it reigns supreme, it further darkens the faces of its victims’ already macerated, gaunt ghost-like silhouettes, cowering with lack of feed, choked with time, furrowed by fear.
And yet they still soldier on hoping for hope to push them on to nowhere. They don’t march, they stagger, an unruly herd of sows, as the rest watch from their ringside seat near their 65 inch gadget.
Should I buy Coco Channel or Donna Karan? No we’ll go to the Rockies, no the Alps, or wait how about Reiteralm or La Plagne? I will buy the Bugatti Veyron and you may the Koenigsegg Trevita lets not fight and bury the hatchet.
Bet on this stock sez Harry; he is the inside trader guy.
Money is all you need and the world you may buy.
Would it be CNN or Fox tonight? Daddy can we have chicken tonight? Coffee or tea honey?
Do you love me? Say please please! Don’t talk with food in your mouth dear Johnny.
Triumph of equal opportunity. See, see, each one walks in accordance with their capacity. No one pushes anyone they all walk with a common goal what it is even the leader does not know.
But that is unimportant they have a common goal somewhere inside their cut up heart recipient of myriad lashes. Poor wretched souls.
Money doesn’t come easy. Gods of Wealth do not always smile so catch them while you can and fill up the holes.
Too bad. Down with capitalism! Down with Communism! Down with Oligarchy! Down with Maoism! Down with Islam! Really! Down with your goddam pants say they or could, or would, if they will survive the arena of human sacrifice, the predator on their back.
Up with Human rights! Sure good idea but the notion is still in your mind it is still cooking in the incubator of intellectual posturing…good fodder it is for you to tweet to your heart’s content for the next few days, and news-mongers rejoice, here is enough stuff for some time so keep track.
In stark contrast to your theoretical construct the boy the girl the little child brethren of your own children walks, not some kid with satchel to school but the child schooled into walking when their frail bodies cry for relief from unrelenting gush of disaster from every which way. The mother straightens her burdened frame almost collapsing under the weight of the saddled piece of bones you may call an infant as her motherly instinct is still alive. She tugs, devoid of energy to coax, the laggard faltering child once a while, knowing the rapist is not far behind, knowing the killer is on hot pursuit waiting to punish the lost and disenfranchised for what? Who knows?
The old and the weak give up the ghost and though their spirit is keen their physical capacity buckles them down as they wait on the wayside for the buzzards and vultures and other animals to devour them. Their only wish now is to die at the hands of animals but not those in the form of humans. The human misery in its grotesque shape is up top and it shows.
The dwindling ghost like half dead figures stamped with the clear markings of the world that has forgotten them are still moving as if to demonstrate the human will and determination against every odd.
They will go it alone even as they create a ripple, a small end of which might reverberate in the corridors of the U.N or forums of genteel speak spaces and hallowed halls of learning. Don’t forget this is just a distraction for a few days to plod.
As your nation sells arms to Burma and the glistening tanks
You have done your bit you sent money from your piggy banks
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And miles to commute to work for their salary dime
Money to count, and fortunes to reap in their mind
The dreams to nurse, the coffee mill, the daily grind
Why get into things that are too gory and deep
You have miles to go before forever you sleep