Killed In The Name Of Change.... Poem by RIC BASTASA

the path to change
is weedy
and thus it must
be weeded out

the bolos are sharp
the shovels are new
the workers are
muscled and healthy

in the garden of
change
there will be sacrifices
the grasses will be
cut
stoned are upturned and
thrown away

there will be burning
the smoke rises to the skies
the ash offerings to the
soil

the change is for the better
new seeds are sown
the plants are growing
robustly
and the fruits are big
and many

i was told the plants
are watered with blood
and its roots well
fertilized by the flesh
of the dead
the bones buried underneath
to make the place
neat and clean

and so the change had
indeed come
dreams are fulfilled
and people they said are
happy

in the market the abundance
is clear to many
full of fruits and flowers
food is many and cheap and
more than enough for
everybody

the emptiness however is
imposing
the would be consumers are
dead
the vendors long gone into
the great divide

there is no one here anymore
the souls of the dead are roaming
in the halls of the city
the plaza, the pedestrian lanes
in the halls of justice where
the judge is asked

who shall answer for us
we who are vanished
who shall record all our names
killed in the name of change.