Mr. Power Broker, If You Didn't

by Frank Sloar

be honest!
nobody's recording this
tell the truth
you feel that pervasive, grinding doom I talk about,
don't you?

if you didn't,
the explosion of Christian slogans on t-shirts would peter out,
the giant suburban churches would shrink into something human
if you didn't,
you wouldn't run up the national debt with such impunity

if you didn't feel the ugliest of grim reapers enveloping your vacation home; I'd sense sincerity when you tell me how good you're doing, when you bark
at me and sneer at me as I ring up and load up your bags of lawn fertilizer