S. J. Fulton
The Sixties-Excerpt - Poem by S. J. Fulton
More than thirty years have come and gone.
Phony patriots still sell out America,
chop at the Constitution with Dark Age axes,
poison the air and water,
lord it over slave labor overseas,
demote the once-prosperous to joblessness,
lock the poor inside ghettos,
turn the helpless into scapegoats.
Those alum-mouthed materialists
cannot tolerate innocence,
Most of all they fear the free mind.
Their media whores,
in screaming tabloids, on talk shows,
spread the message that Freedom is Slavery.
Dare you extend a hand to others?
They’ll chop it off,
make a movie of the bloody blade,
peddle the film on DVD,
one of those chainsaw gross-outs
for the education of children.
Somehow our best instincts keep staggering to their feet.
I don’t know how,
or how much longer.
but because in the Sixties
hope was loosed upon the world,
even in our dreary decade of haters and baiters,
a thimbleful of hope remains.
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