The law is now lawless.
Erasure, detention, the first wire fences—
It’s 2026, but the lessons of 1935 have still not been learned.
ICE carries the immunity card:
Trespass. Assault. Death. Swing away.
We traded our freedoms for the unknown.
For cruelty. For hate.
Pack your things and clear the desks.
“Fake news, Fake Science.”
Pack the rooms with yes-men.
Hold on. Now it starts.
They had Müller the bureaucrat; we have Miller the architect.
Enforcer, Designer.
Project 2025? “Never heard of it,” they say,
but the ink is already dry.
Targets? Immigrants.
Unless you’re white and native-born, you’re in the crosshairs.
Claiming rights while standing on stolen land—
White? Citizens?
It didn’t save Renee Good or Alex Pretti,
birthrights don’t stop bullets on a Minneapolis street.
The new regime performs a sleight of hand,
changing the uniforms,
masks, for invisibility,
gloves erasing fingerprints,
and the entire person.
“Dangerous criminals,” the leadership calls them,
while they pick the apples and power the grid.
The Broadway stage breaks in singing,
“Immigrants, we get the job done.”
But the chorus is drowned out by a boot,
raised, waiting…
Repeat the lie until it’s the truth.
Now, believe it.
It worked for Goebbels; it works today.
What’s our call to action?
To break this regime, to turn the page?
We do what we have always done.
We wait in line.
We punch in those names.
Hoping a ballot will turn us back to democracy.
Meanwhile,
we sit in the dark.
Streaming a mind-numbing loop of distraction.
Two minutes of peppy, digital static,
just to make the year go faster…
But when the screen goes black,
The reflection is the same.
It’s 1935….
No, it’s 1936.
I mean… 2026.
I keep mixing up those dates.
It’s getting harder to tell the difference.