In Feral Times

In feral times, brains tear

into propaganda in rabid

frenzy. Brains fill with rage,

which displaces sense

and empathy. Minds want

to hunt mythic stock prey--

who turn out to be people

just like them. Afterwards. 

In feral times, mirages

cloud minds, blind them 

to facts and finding ways. 

Mobs over-run common 

ground because cults

are total. The wicked

trick the deranged to gain

so little--like pickled

ideology or weary greed.

In feral times, reasoners

don't know what to do.

They wonder if they 

should seek a better place

to live. They tend to stay

to fulfill duties. Once

the Grand Wreckers rise 

to unbound power,

a cycle ensues. It

may end in a shabby

bunker but too late. 

The reasoners know

because they've read

and know what to read. 

hans ostrom 2022