Musical Chairs

One can imagine
A single, global
Surveillance state still

Absurdly human
As that drama when
A row of old men

On their matching chairs
Forced one old man out.
Get out of here! Go!

A hole in the row
Was left during votes,
A gap as goofy

As a missing tooth,
Edited later—
One fewer chair left

And one old man less,
And who could miss him
Among cruel old men?