i.

i sit writing at a square blue table

recording very simple scenes i see

typing at a machine where ignorance can be bred

leading to actions we fear to know.

ii.

here there is nothing to pursue.

the innocent are themselves walking about smiling

dragging the packaged bones of their dead

saying "these are our people

images etched in his'try's mem'ry

cuneiforms decorating the pinnacle of the temple."

they speak as if aware of a public internment

where plastic flowers are lain upon graves

as if problems there will leap into a hearse

and the savior arrives in a gilded chariot.

iii.

duped by illusions masking repression

fascinated by love and searching for affection

they swing upon a trapeze, hoping to be caught

lest fear falls into their empty hearts.

but give them time and a crisis of identity

their props will collapse with an appropriate persecution.

their converted minds will return them to slav'ry

and Truth will be dashed upon unforgiving ground.

iv.

headaches and heartaches with nothing to show

imagine themselves something like mud splattered walls.

their safety net is fear, carried like freedom in their breast

stones and dust forming a crust like a body map.

sure-sounding and law-pounding

they nail coffins with their hands

but they must lie to prove their accusations

must lie to enter the brains of the nation.

will their eyes ever open?

will Jesus appear with a stamp of approval?

v.

having been fingered as dangerous to society

the guilty are marched to the fields of execution

dragging the bags of distorted garbage

standing upon the garrote looking for heaven.

the secure doubt the repetition of history

with the seductive dangers borne therein

for it's the illusion of protecting something

that teases gods to burn the bodies of the insane.

all enemies are prisoners, both within and without

assuring the saved that their system works.

vi.

i've listened to the music of the nations.

i'm not sure but one hope is surely sung:

continue the search for the response to the noble.

sing a song that will bring the human home.