Life & Island Times: Hollow Men

Editor Note: Traveling. Comms may be spotty. Joyful event in another state. More to follow, I hope.

– Vic

Hollow Men


Author note: I apologize in advance for this piece’s bleakness over the political barrenness in Washington DC.

Healthcare system — it’s dying, sir.

The Hollow Men

A trillion more for poor gals and guys

They are hollow men
They are the stuffed shirt men
Leaning together
Mouths filled with strawmen. These asses!
Their smooth voices hoarsen, when
Ideas they whisper together
Are empty, quiet and meaningless
As field mouse farts in tall grass
They are rats who feed us broken glass
On large empty TV screens
They shape messages without substance, futures without color
They speak in signs and wonders
They are paralyzed by their empty gestures and fake emotion
Those who have gone before us
To life’s promised kingdom
Remember to pray for us – that all is not lost
Save out restless souls, but not
The hollow men
The stuffed shirt men


DC’s a dead land
It is a desert land
Full of stonemen statues
Once these giants roamed there, now they suffer
The empty supplications of hollow men
As the twinkle of America’s fading star flickers
Is it like this
In life’s coming kingdom
Will we wake alone
At the hour when we are called
Trembling with expectations of bliss
Or will our prayers fall on broken stone


On their televised events where they all put on airs
Or when they’re standing on Capitol steps with their frozen stares
What lightens the night and the burden one bears
Is a game of political musical chairs

When the debate drags on, no one plays, no one cheers
We voters tune them out and drink while sitting on the stairs
Before we fall asleep like a bunch of old bears
We join in their game of musical chairs

We skip, dance, parade and prance
They tell us chances are great we’ll win
If an empty chair is right there
Where you could plop right in

Each time there is one less chair
There’s one less playing too
But if you’re not late and you concentrate
It won’t be you

You never know if fast or slow
Will win the prize
Just listen closely and just hope mostly
There’s no October surprise


Our leaders who art in DC
Hollow is your game
Your ideas in policy never become
Our will is not to be done
Upon our earth as it is in your Georgetown heaven
Please share with us today some of your daily bread
And pay off us our nation’s debts
As we people pay off our own debtors
And lead us not into alt fact narrative temptation
But deliver us from the evil ones
For thine is the
Life is short
Time has come today
There are things to realize
¬°Hola! it’s time
Tic, toc, tic, toc
Oh . . . it’ll all end not with a bang but a whimper

Copyright © 2017 From My Isle Seat

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