THE SLOW DEATH EXECUTED
Daily we see the huge maw
of the deconstruction,
destruction of Detroit.
Annihilation for profit by individuals,
Swift to reap the roof of a homeland,
spitting its tasteless plundered portion aside.
The pile grows with the dual plights of poverty
and pillage as the gaping hole expands
in the name of economy.
Three hundred years of history
reduced to a few worthy square miles.
Miles made manageable
with intentional disregard
of the larger, by far, wings of the home.
All chewed up in the name of urban cleanliness,
exposed now is the door level,
where many a resident
with teeming numbers of temporary guests,
a place in the palace where all had been welcomed
to drink from the now dried up well of wealth.
Until the friends and families finally stopped coming,
forcing the mewling men of officialdom
to go to them afar off now, forever gone,
begging forgiveness of everything evil for the sake
of the memory of yesterday’s prosperity.
Now food for monsters of destruction
who will profit from disdain and indifference.
To hell for them yet trying to live
in a new urban wilderness of helpless laws and conscience.
“Make way, make way” they cry.
We need habitat for displaced animals, feral and wild.
A dumping ground for a murdered society.
Without so much as a belch
the tools of our destruction
move on, next door,
down the street,
block after block,
neighborhood by neighborhood
all deemed unworthy of a savior
by the gods of prosperity.
More always more to tear and rend apart,
faster now the piles of loss grow into political points
for the hypocrites who say this demise is salvation.
They lie. They lie, they lie
and they do it with a smile.
© M Durfee