I feel a poem coming on
not like a bomb
that explodes in my brain
but a trickle of words like a creek in the rain:
In the land of the free, the choices are few:
we build our cities but block the view
or live in the suburbs where the land has been cleared
on Whispering Pines, with our wife and our beard
or live in an alley dead ends on both sides
and sit on the asphalt begging for rides
Clinton or Trump:
whom shall we choose?
one is dope and the other's booze.
War or war, what is the option?
Is our freedom up for adoption?
Greater or lesser, which evil is best?
Give me some drugs; I need a rest.
Shall I go down or shall I go down?
freedom's a farce, a monstrous clown...
and we sink and we drown......
Dead ends all around me,
nowhere left to go;
what's a man to do
watch the picture show?
Liberty's a lark,
broken wings and all;
Maybe I will kill some time
shopping at the mall.
This path leads nowhere,
or rather the same
That path leads nowhere
so whom can we blame?
Half dozen of one,
six of the other,
what's the answer, dearest brother?
We dream of an exit
and work out a plan
if everyone follows
across our new span:
but mood is doom
and doom is mood,
forward or backward
it all seems to loom
like a dead end alley
as I said before:
so what's the point
of keeping the score?
There's freedom beyond,
there's pie in the sky.
But who will hear our lonely cry?
We fight with our comrades
and throw verbal turds
we die of a silence
that's smothered in words
In the land of the free
our choices are few
tho everything's new.......
Is freedom then a shopping spree?
A million things to buy
but nothing else to do?
The old is a memory
a pile of dust
we reach for the latest,
dreams coated in rust.
There's nothing to live for
nothing to die
our freedom's constricted
to one last lie:
you can do what you want
in the land of the free
if you're able to just pay the fee....
you worked to earn
but who will keep your dream
alive, as deepest longings burn?
How long can the ashes be turned?
And:
Who will hear you sigh?
Who will crush the the choking lie?
Do you hear me?
Am I free?
Am I all alone?
Dear readers,
throw me a bone.
