First Thought Poem by Jan Oskar Hansen

The rich, famous, notorious, and singers get their lyrical poem written
by harp playing bards who as thanks get to eat and sit on the left side
of the most illustrious person and whisper flattery into ears that cannot
hear, but one voice. The muse has been corrupted by poets, who flew
too near the power, I feel like writing a poem to Saddam Hussein,
he used to, when young, sell cigarette in Al Basrah, kept Iraq intact till
warrior democrats arrived and turned the country into a failed state,
but I will desist; after all I have stopped smoking.

The tendencies to believe what our leaders say has yet again destroyed
a country and a voice in my head tells me how insignificant poetry is,
when it tells the truths about us, it doesn´t matter anymore, because no
one no listens. The poor are dead or frail and religion is an instrument of
torture as the world nears its total destruction, and all words written on
paper of trees slaughtered trees´ last breath will, be ash in the wind.