THE DIVISION BELL

A political poem about the global elite, New World Order. Treatment of Native Americans and the 99%.

THE DIVISION BELL

 

they have civilised

the language of hatred

and corruption-

turned it into condensed

subliminal codes

to be absorbed

passively

and aspired to

through elite worship.

this softening,

that swims in intercourse

with Oppositions

and Self mandates

it’s wars and poverty-

hides the bodies

from presentations

where the Smile and Fist

work together.

there is no Division Bell

that Speaks and Moves

with and for

the majority

marching past outside-

like Natives

carrying their bags of belongings,

being screened and moved

from lush lands

early into cemeteries

or onto cattle trains

out to desert Reservations.

the Doors

of cold centuries

blow open,

and we see

how Treaties

are still Broken and Abused-

by those we entrust

who have turned

the Globe of Everything

we are meant to Share

into something Bought and Sold

all Right to be Owned and Inherited.

most sheep don’t Mass for much-

just a patch of grass to graze

and a shack to shag and sleep in-

a few, have their own field

and privately furnished rooms,

but when they all adore

w and k’s first tour

on the front page and tv news

for twelve days of conditioning,

or letch and leer over the tits on page three-

the Universal Flaw in Their Rule and Law

makes them troll and bay for this culling of people-

until it comes for them.

 

Copyright Strider Marcus Jones. From his 4th book Wooded Windows. 2nd July, 2011. All Rights Reserved.

 

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

"the smile and fist work together"
perfect line...and the people sent to reservations...we should have had reservations about thinking that we owned a land that we did not.
love the implications of this Marcus.
j.