Politics 

Brittle clang of voices
Crowds the House floor on
Debate day, as if 
Noisy dirty words are enough to make it right.

The arguments are hollow and dry as a quill
Just plucked from its host, bending with 
Pressure, absorbing the flow of deception,
Transforming the lies into law.

Social justice is a long way off.
Democracy is dead and the oceans close behind.
This game of kingmaking reeks of 
Brutal domination of the press and 
Present company included sucks the lifeblood
From our state.

This state we're in, this broken corpus
Coloseum (sick) thrives on bloodshed, thrives on blame.
(And isn't smart enough by half.)

Where is wisdom?  Where are the agents of change, the 
Risk brokers, the fools?
In this chamber of secrets each one's a lone ranger, 
Carving a piece of the action, craving a lead in the play.

Egos too small for survival,
Bumping to boundary that stops rage at skin.  
The ten pin politicians, egos bouncing, think they see it through. 
Instead they simply bloat and bluster,
Build another dam,
Wage another war,
And deify the Market to bring flood another day.