Me --
The now lounge singer,
plugging the posh.
Post pretty pictures
don't forget to wash
your hands of the filth
of the ages, the stage,
oh the war that still wages,
the quietest rage.
White in the summertime,
linens on lines,
oceanscapes,
stacking the decks
stoking fires.
When words fail to help us
will we all collide
in the form and diatrus
of meaningless rhyme?
Exhalt and curtail us,
teach us the new signs
of the times, a hiatus,
from parallel lines,
sirens, sobbing mothers,
mourning their sons,
who is clad in the tempest?
who has lost? who has won?
the arrow, fatalistic,
will swirl into line,
like pollen on water,
separate yet combined,
the mother of chaos,
the father of time,
will teach and obey us,
in turn and in kind.
Achilles uncovered,
of guns, germs, and steel,
hang on to your lovers,
and hang on to your heels.
I was just thinking of her
when she walked off this earth
she was rolling like thunder
I was rolling at birth.
We're all spinning, all winning,
all losing the find
in a manner of speaking,
for a moment in time.
Will we all come together?
Will we all fall apart?
are we loose or untethered?
are you losing your heart?
Understand the unspoken,
understand the unseen,
understand the grand token,
understand the grand scheme.
We wait while they beckon,
we all fall for the foil.
It's a mess and I reckon,
it's time for a very good cleaning.
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