Tag Archives: photography

The shelves of supermarkets
are dependent on farmers,
               both foreign and domestic
               dependent on bankers—

               on tractor drivers, irrigators and brown skin labor,
                              both legal and illegal
                              looking for a better life

               to fill the trucks for grocery stores
               that fill our families’ bellies.

We are dependent on the weather and electricity
               to pump the water
               to grow the crops for harvest.

We are dependent on our phones and Internet
               to keep in touch
               with skewed news and friends
               lest we find ourselves alone
               for an hour—lest we begin
               to know our minds
               or even reason for ourselves.

We are dependent on the politicians
               dependent on corporate donations
               as they campaign to stay
               close to the feed bunks,
               instead of representing
               the workingman trying
               to pay for his consumption.

We are dependent on the planet
               as we carve up the heart
               of its landscape, as we spend
               its resources today
               instead of saving for tomorrow.

We are dependent on one another
               for love and understanding,
               for common sense
               and compassion.

And lastly, we are dependent on God
               and hope to hell
               He’s paying attention.

Yea, once a great nation of statesmen and orators
forging principles, annealed by fire, an ethic
shaped with hammer to anvil. Yea, we once were

the envy of the world, yeoman and scholars free
to speak the truth despite their fears—despite our need
to be greater than we are, we fool ourselves.

Four percent of the planet’s population, we are small,
leaving the elite to run this country into the ground
as we consume like feedlot cattle with credit extended

at 25 percent—we have become vassals to the bankers
on Wall Street—our greatness measured by their numbers
with little else left of value to speak or be proud of.

Once a great nation, we are an embarrassment
to humanity, to a once common sense—
we follow the pack like scavengers praying for a bone

until we blindly consume ourselves without wisdom
or compassion. Where are our senators and statesmen?
Have we forgotten who we were, once upon a time?