They're 'Them.' They're 'They.' They're 'Those people.'
Too many to cross or ignore,
Too vague to accuse or reason.
Wrathful, fearsome, and proud of it.
Above reproach, yet complicit.
They were a rumor, a phantom.
With no account more than themselves.
Evocative of the people
Whom I have ever known that I
Never wanted to see again.
The murk has passed, gone with the tide.
They were the strange scent in the air,
The friendly pall, the looming shade;
The squeaky wheel of righteousness,
And the grassroots of fascism.