Though possessing no desire

  to don executioner’s hood,

  sentinel sun shall slip warm noose

  around our guilty necks

  Soaring bald eagle

  watches with indifference

  Arrogant eyes ablaze

  This is emotion sickness

  This is the price of conspiracies

  An encircling band of consumption,

  warping what’s left of truth

  until sunburn

  feels like ropeburn

  This is imbalance embraced

  Opening the ozone

  to melt fragile poles

  Opening sores

  before they can heal

  Popping reds, whites,

  and blues

  that silence and sedate

  those with evaporating tears

  This is our planet

  losing its skin,

  while a President refuses to sign

  Corruption arrives

  like a cool desert rain

  that falls from dissolving sky

 c) C. Butler 2005