Yes, it's fair for you to call me complicit,
A limosine liberal, still at the wheel
Of a gas-powered car, still in the aisles
Of the willfully myopic stores which
Peddle goods made by slaves, still
Paying taxes to kill those in Gaza
And threaten, essentially, all of the world.
Funder of prisons, willing accomplice
Of beetle-browed bigots who, somehow,
Believe that it's worse to have China
Collecting our data than Google or
Apple, the NSA.  The planet is dying.
I drive anyway.  The cops go on killing.
I stay in my house.  Oligopolists shake
Down their penniless customers.  I'm
Unconcerned.  I own lots of their stock.
I complain.  Maybe someone should give
Me a medal, but that's all I do.  I can see
Faces staring, demanding that I try to help
Them.  I don't.  I sit on my hands, guilt-
Ridden, complicit, the way that I always
Have been.