Psychodrama

Playing out your role,
Seeking transformation,
Sharing your control,
Surfing every station.

Actions of the group
Coming to consensus,
Morality in troops
Pleasing to our senses.

The cast, the mob is wired,
Armed with their pretenses.
Compromise desired,
Breaking down defenses,

Reality’s retired
As the play’s repeated,
Collectively, for all,
Everyone’s mistreated,

Corporate spirit guides
Facilitate the play
Steer the compromise
Little day by day.

Those anonymous,
Far away, conflicted,
Leave what’s real behind.
Hopelessly addicted.

21st Century Wire: “Trigger Warning: ID Politics” (podcast)

SUNDAY WIRE with host Patrick Henningsen

Enter the show
And slip on your skirt.
There’s no saying no,
And no one gets hurt.

Heckle and jeer.
Climb out of the crowd.
We’ll make you look queer
For yelling so loud.

Your dress is all wrong.
Don’t put up a fight.
Come on play along.
What’s wrong can be right.

Go on acquiesce.
It’s short and it’s tight.
Say yes to the dress,
As long as it’s white.

Poisoning words in our reservoir,
Imposing rights to be who we are,
Herding us so every commissar.

Taking the bait
Wiping your slate
Thirty years late
Two minute hate

Their agitation’s aim,
To keep the natives pissed,
While chiefs are changing lanes,
Their greater aims are missed.

It’s news and it’s not.
It’s hard to refuse.
It’s cold and it’s hot.
It’s postmodern news.

Gladly she confessed to me,
That ugliness beyond degree,
Its viewing was her therapy.

Proudly labelled her disease,
Hoarding, hoarder if you please!

Fixed upon another mess,
Her dirtiness she does confess,
Relatively, hers is less.

Fiction now is faction,
Agitation’s mission,
Tantrums and reactions,
Solvents for division.