POET’S CORNER: "The Ashes of Matthew Shepard"; "The Machine"; "The Poor Boy"

The Ashes of Matthew Shepard

A cyclist mistook him for a scarecrow.

He was beaten, tied to a fence, and left to die.

People kill in evil wanton ways every day

But this hate had a public, media voice.

Society might separate the most horrific acts

Of humankind from things we now believe in

Like today,

And how we as a society

Accept that African American U.S. citizens

Are not given more rights

If they marry a Caucasian,

Sit in the front of a bus,

Choose any seat in a U.S. theater,

Or use our current bathrooms and water fountains.

Matthew wore the wrong “color” of conservative social sin

In the eyes of others,

Left for dead while tied to a rural road fence

Like a bloody scarecrow,

Yesterday’s progress and this horrific blow,

And this place of hate

Where not even a crow would go.

— Neil Frederick, Brown County

The Machine

Black Elk came out of the mountains

For the first time

He left his village and people behind

He headed down to the valley

To the city of light

To see what he might find.

He came upon great confusion

People with blank eyes

People doing a strange dance

Expressing nothingness and lies

They were dulled and dreamlessly trapped

In a bubble of isolation

Without minds.

And the machine was everywhere

Long tentacles reaching all around

Grabbing everything and everyone in its path

Ripping their souls out

Placing each of them in predetermined complacency.

The herd shuffles along dirty streets

There was no one to meet

No one to greet

All in bubbles and shuffles

Faces flash behind windows of glass

From cars, cabs and buses

Blank eyes

All of them with those blank eyes

And the machine was everywhere

The machine was everywhere.

— John “JD” Dunfee, Morgantown

The Poor Boy

He arrived undersized

Immediately they institutionalized

Compartmentalized

Brutalized and propagandized

The poor boy

Individual traits

Collateralized and finalized

He was criticized, demoralized and desensitized

Till he was perfectly socialized.

That beautiful free flowing spirit

Demonized

Then he realized

He was still undersized

Praying he wouldn’t be euthanized.

— John “JD” Dunfee, Morgantown