Players Poem by Sara Militello

Players

Among Baron Levyesque Pols
strewn ubiquitous like grains of sand
and showing an intransigent gall,
are many whose aims are far less than grand.

And, by too casual a nod to Caligulous deceit,
mortals coalesce on packaged perfidy replete
as pseudo truth is bought and minds slam shut
on once challenged thought;
willing dupes in a micro-managed media fraught.

Tho' three-score younger have no clue,
a few who've seen more,
try to show what careless lips in lieu
scramble to out-pour.

With Aesopean illusion the going ruse
those enticed by degenerate muse
now must be Players,
who oft' feel they should from Evil flee
or perchance might even cease to be.

Nov.8,2001