The imbecile is at work in world busy about its activities
Giving opinions, acting without thought, 
Obdurate in pursuit of gimcrack distractions
and automatic as machine.
The imbecile stews in soups of inactivity
Natural as wind,  bubbling to the surface
tireless banalities
The imbecile passes through unnoticed 
Like the quotidian affairs of your neighbor.
The one you never knew.

What can be said of the lunatic?
It has been caged, drugged and beaten
Disavowed in prayer and confession
Driven into homeless oblivion 
Domesticated as a dog by breeding
Its violent aggression now submissive
Its passions forced into hiding.
The lunatic is a threat 
Born wholly from dissatisfaction of
Living between the bile and the ideal.
Despondent from suffering,
Raging against all, screaming fitfully against
the order of things from instinct alone.

The lunatic cannot reason and the imbecile doesn’t care.
Give me the lunatic and I will take it as my friend
For I can see that it is fully awake and all it has suffered
But the imbecile is without awareness or conscience
Left to work in the world it brings misery
Because it notices nothing and cares only for the next 
Distraction 
Bring me the lunatics
They are my brothers and sisters
They are art, crying for expression.

The Ignominious War on Poverty 50th Anniversary

Who can forget that Texas fraud Lyndon Baines Johnson?  He was as corrupt a politician as could be found in DC, making Richard Nixon look positively virtuous.  He became the worst president in American history since Roosevelt.  Both of them made Utopian plans as only a politician can, smug and self-satisfied that with enough political will, money and power they could overcome material reality and human intransigence.  Listen to this sound clip below and ask yourself how is this promise, fifty years ago, any different than the utopian promises of today?

Of course , this is wasted on true believers.  If you point out the utter failure, the contemptible waste of resources, they will always tell you, the right people haven’t done it yet, it was a success really or it failed because of saboteurs from the opposition.  It’s an endless loop that each new generation plays.  Promise Utopia:Fail:Reframe:Blame:Repeat.  The only thing they accomplish is loss of liberty and freedom.

No more inspirational stories
I can’t take it
The indomitable spirit
The missing limbs
Cancer's consumed child
Smiling, bald and brave

There under studio lights are
The clicking teeth of the
poignancy thieves
Selling misery's might
in HD pain until
Nothing is felt 

Where are the stories
of broken spirits?
Destroyed by tragedy
The ones that never recover
That’s who I’m praying for
The ones you’ll never see
Honored in the nightly news
For a ratings jubilee