The Fish Without A Bone.... Poem by RIC BASTASA

way back
he had always been
good, the emulated
god
way back, back to his
old ways,
he had catered to
all the needs
and codes
of conducts invented
by those who had long
been dead
and cruel, way back
his thoughts are
copying machines
now
when their consciences
and lives
are gone to the
beyond
he is left with
an empty mind
a fish without a bone
a kite with a wire for
a string
a puppet whose strings
are cut
now lying
inanimate on the
wooden floor

their mistakes
he is a duck
this willing target
for the terrors
about
to come