I don’t know
It feels rude
to ask more
than I can offer.
Sky so blue and free
becomes theater of attack,
no peace, no cover.
Lies become a code,
rule of law.
Denying wages owed
becomes a cause.
Reason explained by rote
to buy another vote
or steal neighbors’ souls.
Safely hide in made up names.
So many earnest no-ones to blame.
Shooting stars, dead on delivery.
Ain’t hype a hoot – pistol cacklings,
whispering past your grave.
Scrimp, save, buy a one-way chance.
Answers? Take your choice.
Pay what the market will allows.
Tomorrow, if that sentence lies before us,
stars parade. Sinners pay submission.
A smiling wizard, 3 feet high, lays claim
to a teacup of blue sky. Quietly,
in cordial company we drink, wink,
breathe. Be free.
September 2, 2013