Bootlickers

Give your rights away, hand them over in defense of murder

with a turned back, through the bedroom door,

at the driver's side window;

the story doesn't matter. The thugs fall under the same umbrella,

their faces masked or blurred. The victims and locations build

an ever-growing list that you form excuses for.

Never mind the freedom you claim to love,

never mind the law of the land;

you can't believe in that and support this law enforcement.

The loyalty feels good, doesn't it?

You get to be part of something from afar,

bitter the way you want, laughing at the death of your enemies:

people of color, women, children, the libs,

hidden behind a screen believing you are safe

as you hand it all over, every right you've ever had

because the boot tastes so good,

and if you keep it on your tongue, you might just keep it from your neck.