Corporate Animals

A Poem by Prometheus

I.

You were sold by cold
And willful men, into a bed
Of lies and angry politics.

You were forced to wed
A pack of rabid dogs

Whose foamy grins
Bleed and breed
From their rotten insides.

Their interest

Is not your interest
And it's not the children's interest.

II.

Your fingers brush
Against my fingers, and
Your lips against my cheek.

You're not weak; you're
Scared, I understand.

The dogs you've married
Have carried you this far,

But you need to know
Your children struggle

And the dogs are running them aground.

III.

You are yours, America,
Not theirs.

Set your wedding ring aside
And stand beside

Us.

Your children need you
And will lead you

Through the dark.

But they've lost faith
In who you are.

Remind them,
They are worth something
Even if their houses are worth nothing

Even if they'd sell their souls for anything.

They are desperate, and they're angry,
And these dogs are predators.