Liberty, Antique Child
By John W.L. Toivonen
Liberty, antique child,
when were you last seen?
I have tried aging you in my mind
so that I could see that this is what
you would look like today.
I've tracked you through footnotes
that lead back to tales.
I've shared what I've found
with other forensics
of the antiquity.
You did not do well on the diet
of the electric screens.
So while the hypnotized were herded,
your wraith was run to a car
humming the intent of its blank voyage.
No one talks about you today
without being forced to wear
the curses of the crowd.
Electric herd drivers mock
the mention of you.
They have the concoction for us.
Do not jerk like a springing cat
as they administer the slumber drops of equality.
The promises of everyone the same and sane in stupidity
will give the hushing to your struck thoughts.
Do not make the infant cymbal hisses.
Stay here.
Purr in union to sweet-tasting instruction.
I've seen the advertisements of good sleep.
I've heard the rain drop of medicine
on the sandpaper tongues.
I know now that
I have to run away.