In bright lights the Most Powerful
Mouth made the case for murdering
abundantly clear in razor sharp tones.
Monkey-Like Mouths danced below,
investigating half-assedly the motives
and aspirations of the High and Mighty
Mouth. They spit out vernaculars
of no particular meaning or merit
to satiate the oblivious and weak
and insure the supremacy of Shark-Finned
Mouths trolling nearby. Meanwhile,
Tiny Docile Mouths watched on screens,
the facility of surrender having rendered
them impotent in the face of rampant
criminality rebranded as “pragmatism”.
So savagery became a comfort, even
a reassuring pleasure, while guilt felt
more like duty. Then the Great Mouth
snarled something about freedom
and laughed and the Lesser Mouths
applauded and the Tiny Docile Mouths
turned off their screens and slept deeply.