poem in progress

My dearest friends and critics, I have gone off on a bit of a mudslide here in an effort to express probably too much at once.  My plan is to come back to this piece and wring it into shape.  It would be so very helpful if you could tell me what you do and don't "get" from this effort:

Living with Being Human

Crafty, Slick, Nasty

old cronies, never friends

not like old crones of the craft

Snide troubling laughter

not lovely raucousy fun

a boon to everyone

Because a boon to one comes

at the price of many

How is a judge to make good

if we're good as our word?

There are so many ways to twist

language, haven't you heard?

Entrainment entraps the many

ready for slaughter

Bled for their water

drained of their brains

How could a faggot think it strange

to tie one's fate to the pack?

If we go out and never come back

there's always another in wait

for the advantage

That's the savage way of the world,

scheming and grieving

always believing

true north is on our side

Each with our righteous right to whine

"But for the cruelty of fate

this world were mine."

August 13, 2009

and, just to let you know, my previous poem "Cubicle Woman and Me" has been morphing a bit:

http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977769351