no less collared in significance
than a four-fisted alley fracas
~~
here’s to youth who must leave the booth
& lend two hands to the betterment of man
on the corner of knuckle junction & rock band
attempt to rearrange one face for sake o a land
while the moot n morose do take & take again
send th uglyman w/a cookie-jar pen to rewrite
our long-haul best hope & peaceQuake aim
today-tonight…trading cases of warcrime
wears (a means for a fight), using kids as
mere fodder for ¿what? monster of might
for a nation o desperate children of dopes
on a mountain of bad debt & … good coke
oh artist, oh music, oh hope … do get goin’
rearrange the alphabet in random patterns
of paragraphs that open eyes to this & that
& some o those who pass the plate & hold
their nose & push the peek of human tolerance
to wide the gap between themselves and us
(who live without, within some frame of mind)
that goes beyond the local purchase price
you pay to keep ~~ to legislate the like ~~
I stand here hopeful of some common sense
o free land once awakened by your relevance:
Fury-speaking tunes o some Age-old pretense
& ruins brought on by fathers & sons of greed
mongering tons o me-me & my my superlatives
& dark-harvest recompense for the dead-eye
of Sauron & the live-wires of FUD & might
&, yes, even morons who bask in th twilight:
The mothers of sorrow, th sons of dread
Oh artist, oh music, oh hope ….…pray do
Rearrange the alphabet in random patterns
of paragraphs that tear th eyes n shatter th guise
…go form some 12 notes into melodic sunrise
as th moon rock th rolling sea, well-beat the tides
WE…the people who stand on shaky ground, why,
we’ll blank-out th mantles who cohort demise (cor-
ridors to regression who) mock & deride our best
luv intentions. Smite the fortress to Mordor, spite
the tantamount to destruction with a blue note
in Bb … & an ol’ harp on salted lips, baby, as
breakers break @ every shoreline whether
the legislators say it will or won’t …or not!
There is a voice of reason in that song
& even if we can’t save ourselves,
save our daughters & our sons
& the terra-firma was once
ours…is now theirs to
do what with, dad?
today’ll … be
whose last
dance?
XXX
OO
X
