Shopworn

The pawnbrokers of bankrupt and weary ideas are
posing as leaders for suburban pioneers

Once "everything was simpler" in a racist long ago
Even then most of us were struggling to grow
Watching gates clank over some minor wealth
keeping us locked out starved of time to ourselves

I wonder when for most,
however would they use it -
squandered every choice,
their whole lives are foolish
(We never know what they might do)

The pawnbrokers' lessons are so heavily redacted -
better study trash than lies from whitewash actors

The ideas we expected would fluently address
the noise with which they are so easily impressed
are too subtle to explain in bumper-sticker books
So how can we get them to take an honest look?

The pain doesn't have to be
intense or relentless but
this learning almost always
hurts the inner senses
(So what are we going to do?)

Ask almost anyone what they hated about school,
reductionist claptrap and conventional rules

Anticipating mastery to
silence the complaints of
neurons working overtime to
grow fibers at this age
(With all we know what we can do.)

The pawnbrokers drag out their rusting excuses
to cover up the lies they used to use to use us

The slight but dank odor of desperation festers
despite the bleaching and the scrubbing and the blisters
The rot still lives on far beneath the surface
Greed is endemic - our culture is in sepsis

(escapade)

And the pawnbrokers' shopworn aggression and fears
they still try to sell us as sterling fresh ideas

7/11/21

© Huw Powell
printed 28 March 2024

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