The Mob

The Mob
By
Elliott Lange

The mob kills
The mob destroys.
Bringers of terror
Fire and noise.
The mob is a monster
With thousands of heads
Ranting and chanting
Palpable dread.

The mob is a black man
Dead on a rope
The mob is a mother
just buying some soap
The mob is a cop
with blood on her face
The mob is a screen
in your office space.

Clamoring, yammering
Pointing a finger.
Smashing and grabbing
Too quick to linger.
Bullies and cowards
Having their moment.
Thundering, blundering
Thriving on torment.

Shrieking young students
shouting him down
An innocent seamstress
Her head on the ground
Luminous text
Typing while nameless
Another job canceled
Faceless and shameless.

Another store looted
“It’s all just things”
Storming the capitol
“Of thee I sing.”
Courthouses, cop cars
Awash in hot flame
“It’s all about justice”
“C’mon! Say his name!”

Better stay silent
Better go hide.
Turn up the music
simmer inside
The fear holds us tightly
an icy, steel grip
For what if the mob has
my name on its lips?

Author: Ryan Osentowski

My name is Ryan Osentowski. I am a conservative blind guy going through life using the structured discovery method. I currently work as the Station Manager at a radio reading service for the blind. My passions include politics, writing, cigars, old-time radio, quality TV shows and movies, food, music, reading, clocks, swimming and tbd. I hope you will enjoy what you find here. If you don't...try it with a strong dose of alcohol.