Hey, Mr. Executioner,
why don’t you execute me?
Since I am guilty
of a crime I’ve never known,
in a place I’ve never been.
Hey, Ventilation Man,
why don’t you steal my pen?
Because I failed to please the bully,
the one who hands out pens
only to those who praise him.
He makes every decision,
yet cannot decide
whether I should surrender
to his decisions.
Hey, Censor of Sentiments,
why did you steal my songs?
Was it your thirst
for a “job well done”?
Or your fear that one drop of truth
might stain
your blood-drinking feast?
Hey, mattia.ca,
why did you delete my poem?
That single drop of clarity
could have drowned
your fields of cliché.
Hey, Mr. Judge,
why do you wear
the vampire’s cape?
Hey, Mr. Security,
your whiteness
does not run deeper
than your uniform.
Hey, Lady of Liberty,
why won’t you free yourself
from the stone
you were carved from?
Hey, Mr. Executive,
your arrogance wears
the red shirt
of every right
you’ve trampled.
Hey, Mr. Sandglass,
I know you will never tame
this mutiny
called civilization.
==
This is the revised version of what I wrote more than 20 years ago.
