Open Poetry #17 |
Welcome to my Washington |
Glenn Logan Member
since 2001-10-10
Posts 111Virginia |
City of suits and stuffed people – black city with white icing – Washington, you have been mine and I yours for thirty-two years of grind, grind, grind without changing gears. White city – city of monuments; green city, with flowers always planted while in bloom – brown city of food preparers, cleaners of offices, mowers of lawns, planters of flowers. City of beauty – beautified by the labor of the poor, so that they may live in squalor – a city fed by the poor so that they may eat your scraps, and fight their way to their garbage cans past big cockroaches and small rats. Marble city – but city of monumental hypocrisy and unworried corruption – of God gave us the right, and nobody’s going to notice what we do, anyway – of corrupt, proud leaders who believe themselves most ethical, and will gladly tell of their sacrifices. Home of the Nation’s judiciary, lead by a Chief Justice, and other Injustices, of astonishingly political partisanship which none in town will dare to notice or to comment on – heading a court system of marble virtue and massive hypocrisy. City of corruption, city of Congress – six hundred strong – yet at least five hundred weak – of a few who act, though many speak. Of these, there are the Republicans who favor cost-cutting, except when it benefits themselves – who profess to want nothing but cheerfully taking all they wish: especially government guarantees that each of them will get very rich. The Democrats often are no better, although if caught, it is said, they may profess a bit more shame – and they will also, of course, gladly cause your local post office to bear a former colleague’s name. But it is Congress’ appropriations that decide how your money will disappear – and that’s when Congress becomes a giant pork factory that is run – strange as it may seem to say – by its biggest pigs! But not all of Washington is so lofty – yet another capital city gets by in the deep shadow of the capitol’s white-painted cast iron dome, on which some poor old green-patined lady stands alone. For many in this capital city are simply bureaucrats moving paper sheet by sheet, or placing words letter by letter on a glowing screen – creating nothing – not pig iron, nor plastics, nor wheat, nor corn nor beans nor potatoes nor meat – just moving paper – just shuffling papers, or putting words on a computer screen – that’s what they do – that’s what we do – and that’s what I do. Washington, D.C.: Pork Barrel of the Nation, Rule Maker, Stacker of Papers, player with roads and dams and post office names; on your slim shoulders, an empire rests. NOTE: More of my poems can be found at: http://www.geocities.com/glennlogan/index.html http://www.poetrypages/pages/glennlogan http://mywebpage.netscape.com/gloganpoet/gloganpoet.html |
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© Copyright 2001 Glenn Logan - All Rights Reserved | |||
Mother_Earth Senior Member
since 2000-11-20
Posts 13701/2 year Texas & 1/2 year Michigan |
Glenn, boy, have you hit the nail on the head!! And to think most of these people in DC at least where put there by our votes! Now who is to blame? A lot of what you say can be found in any of our 50 states, but more so there. New York was built by the poor for the rich and it is the same today. It is a "love- hate" affair. You painted a not always pretty picture. Thanks for sharing |
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