None of the changes
ever took place.
Power changes hands, yes,
but it never changes
its mind.
Doctrines see no difference,
Men dress uncomfortably &
bounce their guts down hallways
and insist in sinister voices
that their ideas are more valuable.
Votes may change whose hand is on the button,
but you'll never change the fact that
there will always be a button --
You will always
be a button,
waiting to be pushed.
"Push me," you plead.
It is like a game,
juggling, or singing songs,
reciting the alphabet
to give you security that
you may know something.
To affirm your place,
but it feels masturbatory,
to constantly agree with yourself.
It is rumored that there are those that
can be wrong, and even admit it.
To have the ability to be vulnerable;
that is why they call it
"vulner-ability".
And though you feel better about yourself,
and the power is in different hands,
the button still exists,
and none of the changes
ever took place.
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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You could have made this a shorter poem but you didn't I am glad you ...
followed through...and tied it together in a great question poem.A piss take on "power".
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wow
THis is so different than what i had last read by you. . . . and it's refreshing. . . .is that lame sounding? Ah well, i like it. I like your take on vulnerability. Looking forward to reading more.
Lizbian
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well done your idea is expressed very clearly
kid of makes one wonder if we have any control at all.
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