oh, so history really is doomed to repeat itself

It is a rotten thing, a fear-based culture,

I’ll humble-brag about living through it, though,

Through things historians will hate us for,

‘Right side of the past’, something something.

I can feel it. Low throbbing sob of the air,

Cracking threat, potent ‘probablys’,

Crow on my shoulder shrieking, “Run”

Me, tripping and sliding through the airport,

Ink gliding under my shoes. Graveyard,

Of book pages, and scratch of a student's pen,

Saying, “The faceless were so easily manipulated

Fourth Reich came. And it happened here, even,

Land of the free-falling into their own torrential shit,

Not doing a damn thing about it.”

They’d roll their eyes. Pin me to the pages butterfly-style,

As somewhere someone says, “That would never happen, nowadays”

And somewhere else, someone else says, ‘I will Make This Better’

Which they cheer for, all over again.