A short poem

[Lenin McCarthy]

(I'll call it "observation from an exhausted angry wasteland")

dear people who lead
and you who lead them from behind
dear corporate bosses, dear bankers, dear statesmen
go on, drink your wine.
but unlike in your youth
now, to tell you the truth:

that's not cocaine,
that powder you're snorting

IT'S CRUSHED BABY SKULLS.