Ordinary -- such was this village's common description,
though the townsfolk disagreed with that dishonest depiction.
Population: a thousand; doctors and scholars with vision;
a child prodigy-ridden society's mission:
to advance human knowledge and fitness,
if not only to encourage the survival of billions,
then merely to discourage the denial of brilliance.
Anti-intellectual perpetual downgrade,
ignoring the creation of exceptional sound-scapes,
ignoring the destruction of a destitute vestibule:
"American Dream" -- no longer a threshold to rescue through.
Arts and sciences: an oasis amidst the harsh environment
garnered by the myth that politics exists beyond such stark alliances.
People here, they see it clear.
They even hear the bark behind the hiss.
No secret disclosures, nothing classified from geniuses. Hope for
elites to be known for deceit and greed was exposed to the street,
where even the lonely walk with the world on their shoulders in heat.
I'm the spokesmen for We, kinfolk to the peace.
My intelligence quotient will peak when Knowing receives
the kind of open critique worthy of the state of this
nation... it's, difficult to explain:
How could you blame me when, the Keynesian game were in
is basically draining men of their way to sustain their kin.
I speak for the last resort. Even though I appear alone,
my words ensure those in their beastly thrones,
even when out of tune will still clearly hear the poem.
I speak for the 1%, for the enlightened few,
and we speak for the rabble who suffer with fear, and though
the Mind is proof that freedom of thought is likely true...
unless we change the number of those who spend their lives confused
knowledge will die diffused... and loneliness will rise...
in a mass of billions, a Wellsian hopelessness will thrive,
and the Bravest of the New Worlds will be chosen by the Gods.
Or at least the universe will not be missed when it implodes within and dies.