Every day a little more abstract,
and then the carelessness
of contempt that’s sanctioned
as a fact
(perhaps just heedlessness)
And while the world lines up
as though arrayed,
the costumes show to all
what little value we
put on what’s paid
in blood, and cell,
and stall —
A little more inhuman
paradise,
as we dehumanize
our brothers, sisters:
in the state we trust,
and will not recognize —
that’s us
This definitely makes me want to think.