Mark Antony Rossi

What tired fool cannot see
evil lurking in his workplace
cannot see the roots of all discord
climbing out of the cavities
of a leaderless landscape
and crushing potential
like so many
sons sent to war
never to return to their innocent youth
where fair play was not a crime
and tomorrow not a rerun
of yesterday.
Gregg Dotoli

the first day
man sold art
freedom flew and beauty's eyes grew
nervous like a lost child
profit gnashing consumed Art of each type
the great anti-muse criticism
deflated and suppressed
human creativity
riveted by institutional protocol
driven by feeble sickly judges
creators heard the flute of dissuasion
while the muses wept
vowing to never quit
waring with slings of hope
and the golden seed of wonder
planted deep within each newborn