Jonas Kyle-Sidell

I exist

in the hollowed-out form

of human decency - where government

should be.

So close am I

to a poet

that I can creep inside

a husk

and fill it up,

using the language

of the oppressed,

like a perfect consumer.

You see, I’m a free market

fundamentalist; I’ve gotten pretty good

at being dispassionate.

Big government disguised

as little government, or vice

versa, it don’t matter - 

I don’t exist,

like angels,

or a unicorn,

but my fiat currency

is brandished

as your gold standard

(Yeah, I’m that sneaky),

trademarked 

all over

with compromise and equality.

I’m the slip

on the red dress

of capitalism - each time

like the first - setting the truth

on fire,                           then selling you

water,              ‘cause, uh, compassion?