Blindfolded

Dying the slow death of political infection,

it hides within our words

 

As we try to run, and try to hide,

its plague a constant scourge

 

Poisoning the water, despoiling our thoughts,

all freedom it commands

 

Directing the folly, conscripting all joy

—our blindfold it demands

 

(Dreamsleep: August, 2019)

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