It is an apparent contradiction but by now we have become accustomed

to the illusion of the us and the them.

The decision makers in dire need of direction and the debiel 

who can't decide any longer between 

what the truth is and how best to go about

grabbing the credit for 

uncovering all the conspiracies and the lies 

 

the lies they claim that grow like lovely little tulip bulbs

spurting finger like tentacles of treachery and deciet 

from underneath the murky muddy festering soil

under each and every parlimentary seat.

The decision makers and the debiel, distraught dance partners 

moonwalking through the dark days of this dead end disco,

moving together, twisted up in some sort of treacherous tango 

till the house lights go back on.

 

And the city council woman asks the question of all the artists invited to zoom in,

what does it mean to mean to culture when even cultural appropriation is caught in a cultural chokehold?