Churches burn,
Communities withdraw into
Crenulated realms within and without.
Misery deepens,
And spills out to the untouched spaces,
As addiction overwhelms the seats of power.
Laws promulgate,
Scattered by bureaucrats in all directions,
To settle as a foretoken of transformation.
While the Oracle,
Tends bar at the Fort Garry and
Contemplates three promises made,
Peace.
Order.
And Good Government.
By W.N. Branson
