So you sit there all proper and respectable,
and ask me why I am a legalizer.
A question of intellectual curiosity borne out of a desire to learn?
No, it is a question of pre-determined judgement and disgust,
As if I have something to explain!
How dare you, sir!
You, who created the nightmarish hell that plagues us all —
called it a success, proclaimed it a work in progress,
lauded the never-ending struggle,
even as the flames lapped higher, engulfing us.
You were too weak or too venal to embrace a real solution.
Educate and regulate, is that really so hard?
Minimize the harm and reward responsibility.
Instead you embraced fear, and decreed
that all others should follow in your footsteps,
marching in circles around your sand-buried dome.
Education was not only not a solution in your world, but not even an option.
It was ruled dangerous, subversive, UnChristian, and UnAmerican,
and so one thing that could have accomplished something
was deemed completely out-of-bounds.
Propaganda and ignorance, that unholy duo,
were recruited to care for our youth,
and to tend to our duties as citizens.
But that wasn’t enough, was it?
Oh, no, not for you.
You aligned yourself with the scum of the earth and said:
“Lo, I give unto you the drug trade,
that you may profit mightily, and that I may as well,
and one day our forces will meet on battlegrounds around the world,
and many will die, but none of them will be us.”
And you spent billions of dollars of our money,
legislating, arresting, arraigning, prosecuting,
convicting, incarcerating, probating, and forced urinating
aimed at the marginal members of society,
turning them into criminals and feeding your industries,
while increasing and protecting the profits of your partners.
You destroyed our Constitution, our courts, our respect for law,
our families, our youth, our environment, our cities, our health, our wealth,
our self-respect.
And yes, people died in the battlegrounds. Tragically, horribly.
Ashley Villareal was shot in her father’s car.
Esequiel Hernandez was shot by a sniper.
Alberto Sepulveda was shot in the back.
John Adams was shot watching TV.
Annie Rae Dixon was shot in her bed.
Tarika Wilson was shot holding her baby.
Kathryn Johnston was shot defending her home.
Veronica Bowers and her baby were shot down over Peru.
These weren’t drug dealers or drug warriors.
They were simple, extraordinary people who died
because you wouldn’t, couldn’t, educate and regulate.
And the severed heads and the massacres in Mexico.
And the executions in China and Indonesia and the Middle East.
And all the people locked up in dungeons all over the world,
Their futures cut short — while you sip your martinis, and nod sagely,
as the people who gain financially from the tragedies of others,
tell you how they can help you win your reelection,
so you can continue the job of legislating, incarcerating and annihilating.
And so again I say:
“How dare you, sir!
Have you no shame?”
I do not have to explain to the likes of you
why my agitation for legalization and education and regulation.
I have more sympathy for the child molesters
forced to live in boxes under bridges,
than I have for you.
But I will tell you anyway.
I am for legalization because I am a human being
with a moral responsibility
to do my part
to undo some small portion of the damage you have done
to… life.
I have no choice.
At least not while I maintain my humanity.
But that’s something you wouldn’t understand.