Living Industrial Complex

Diligent, active, apt, and clever,
Wolves, raccoons, humans, ants, and spiders—
Industry for the industrious,

Living for life’s determined living.
Well-organized protesters face off
Against the state’s bused-in supporters

Or against the state’s police forces.
Forces in the state are figuring
How to prevent organized protests

From forming in the first place. The games,
They say, are cancelled. The games go on.
The severest fantasy would drop

All of it, and yet remain alive,
Neither one of the well-organized
Protesters and counter-protesters,

Nor among the shadowy forces
Clustered in the centers of the hives.
An end to all industriousness,

To heavy industry, to working
For the teammates only on your team,
To diligence and activity,

Even in one’s own territory.
The severest fantasy often
Comes true, but briefly, before the end.

You find the dehydrated spider,
The lone wolf panting, the trapped raccoon
Starving to death in the choked sewer,

The ant booted from its colony
For smelling like what invaded once,
The protester under deep cover

As a plant or a mole, anyone
Helpless under covers, forgetting
Their lives, what their industry was for.