They've sidelined misery today, turned away from hope,
With the nighttime wake guards, rifles down in due respect,
And strangely I'm elated this hot night, happy in the drip-drip,
Break-away of nations all in worship like a new religion,
Born of nothing but the mis-directed reverence for lineage.
We have our common kin, a lichen maybe, or a single cell,
As much an accident in this chain of errors made successful,
Through survival, the beating down of rivals, stealing food,
Being born just so and in the right position to claim gods,
As parents, like a gold idol levitated as proof of magic,
Proof of right to rule through ruthless mob denial of rights,
Of others. Keep it up - you need no guards these days,
Years ago you bred out revolution with your little gifts,
To the well-fed, to the entertained and reverent crowds,
Slack with the lottery of waiting, the public as the news.
And tomorrow they'll roll out the guns to celebrate a birthday,
Mark life with the instruments of death, the very limbers,
Made to carry to their final Mass, the passing monarchs,
Passing undivinely like us all, mortal after all, commoners,
Like us all, signed out for good like us all. Just a circuit,
And maybe I'm happy for the humans in this messy show,
Made possibly complete by birth in all this chaos of no function,
Drowned in a sea of goodwill and unblushing praise, but,
You'd think that reproduction was by decree and by degrees,
The truth of how the world should run is made plain to us.
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