To The Utopians (first letter)

Can we look after each other?  How do you manage it without managing anything?  Is the world the way it is because of people like me?  Am I prevented from being myself because of the world as it is?  Am I you before emancipation?
Do we need to be selective?  Are some of us monsters?  Are others held hostage? When does a selector become monstrous?  Who selects selectors?
If any of you wrote me a letter, would there be this many questions in it?
What is crime without want?  Shame without taboo?  Beauty without ugliness?  What is cherished without knowing sorrow?

How are you anything at all?

Is selfishness innate?  What happens when money and property are forgotten?  Was Lenin right?  Are you a fantasy?  Does indifference to personal gain require forced cultivation?
Can we be punished to fit?  Corrected for inclusion?
What can be good when nothing is bad?  What becomes of us when the struggle is over?  When Justice reigns?
Perhaps it’s no wonder that you’re no place at all, but I still wonder constantly.

Can we look after each other?

I choose to try.