For Charlie by Lynn White

So many people marching and waving,
waving pencils and pictures of pencils.
Millions and millions marching with pencils,
asserting their values, showing their power,
paying their respects.

But it’s not what it seems.
say the sideline snipers,
the underminers,
the false flag wavers,
the pencil baiters,
the Je Suis Fuck All-ers.

They’re pencilled pawns,
just part of the plans
of the Old Pretenders,
the liars and haters,
the manipulators,
the plotters and schemers,
the money makers.
The bullets were blanks and,
the dead, aren’t dead.

Say the sideline snipers,
the underminers,
the false flag wavers,
the pencil baiters,
the Je Suis Fuck All-ers.

just look who’s leading
from the front line.
It’s the Old Pretenders, the liars and haters.
It’s proof enough
What more do you need.

But it’s not what it seems.
It’s a trick of the camera,
another pretence
to diminish the distance
between them and
the leaders behind them,
the pencil wavers,
the movers and shakers,
the history makers.

Not so say the snipers,
the underminers,
know better than you-ers,
the Je Suis Fuck All-ers.

They say nothing of Gaza,
those pencil wavers,
or climate, or oil, or this or that.
And if they can’t speak for all things,
it won’t matter if, tired by the baiters
they go home and draw cats
till their pencils are blunted
and the spell has abated.
and smiles back on the faces
of the Old Pretenders,
the liars and haters,
the leadership fakers,
the Je Suis Fuck All-ers
who love
to look at
pictures
of kitties.

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