Neon Gods

Photo by Mathew Schwartz on Unsplash

I watch this sordid drama unfold,
leaders giving vultures a bad name,
bobbing heads on TV crying for revenge,
warmongering anchors chasing a false fame.

a comrade felled, a brother slayed,
a widows wail, a child’s lament,
when the coffin arrives, cloaked in gratitude,
seeking to cover up someone’s shame.

tomorrow they will again appear,
saying we will never surrender,
when they vow payback to a fawning camera,
ask who is to blame for this blunder.

ask the question, who slept at the wheel,
who ignored warnings, what was the deal,
the chest being thumped , where was it yesterday,
your campaign poetic, now what do you say,
o neon gods with feet of clay.