I can only presume

that your mother is proud

of you, as you smile for the camera

and step on the backs

of the dead

and the dying,

of the poor

and suffering

you “helped set free”.

Look Ma, you cry,

remembering only to punch

the air, (thinking of the faces

of those you deem reckless,

at best,

unspeakable

detestable

thin skinned and lazy,

is your true assessment),

remembering to punch the air

and not raise a hand,

a tailored suit arm,

in triumph

at the thought of the gong

you are about to receive;

arise

arise

arise

for you have ended the suffering

by murdering your way to fame.

Ian D. Hall 2020