by Thomas M. Lyons

Drifting in taxes
where nothing can grow or glow or journey
beyond the prosaic flow
of noise and policies from those without souls
where political snails and landholding snakes
argue points in fake debates
where time has come and gone a thousand times
Keeping me confused in time as I pace this space
and strive to devise a way to survive
and escape these slums I hate
Like King Kong from Pong I don’t belong
only my Georgist spark sets me apart from this dark
and these greezy and cheezy and corny —
intellectually boring — definitely not for me
I don’t now how far this tax hole goes
but I know this is not the road that I chose
lined with politicians with biased views
who use platitudes as tools to fool
never refraining from explaining and complaining
it’s so spiritually draining
it’s sucking the light from me
I must find a way to get away from this gloom
I  know these walls are not real
but the steel feels like real steel
and I can’t hold my grip to slip these debts
my bills are piling — my income doesn’t grow
Is someone responsible for the economic hospital?
Is it possible for me to leave
this state of disease?
Why are they looking down
shaking their fingers, smiling at me?             (2/29/12)

Thomas Lyons is a former HGI student and teacher, who is still incarcerated in Pennsylvania, but will be released soon! He just got in touch with us after some years. Two of his articles have appeared in the Georgist Journal, and he has taught many students over the years. Welcome back, Tommy, and best wishes for your release!           — L.D.

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