Do they yawn, these masters
of our fate and wallets
as they cast their weighted
dice together, as they weigh
our lives and find them
negligible as we do when
we swat a fly?
Do they still find it
exciting as they plan
a war or an election,
a tax break or a politician
bought for less or more
than they judged him
worth? Is it still fun?
Is it just routine now—
a famine in Bangladesh
a strike crushed in West
Virginia mines, a plague
ignored in the Congo,
a carcinogenic drug
widely advertised.
The draperies are drawn.
We have no spies
in those high places.
Our phone calls recorded,
our IDs stowed in files
but they remain almost
invisible to us.
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