Anthem

by

The street run red with the blood of me and my fellow poets - all

Slaughtered by the descending hordes of patriotic know-it-alls

And the rum-tum-tum of war drums on the march

Makes my ear drums fall apart
And I have to question whether I've landed in ancient Rome or Detroit

As I'm thrown into the arena to fight the Lions

And I wonder if this really is Zion and they were right all along,

The holy land with it's pristine prime-time TV and anthem songs before the gladiator games
This fairy tale mute future was not built in my name

By my name is nail etched on the back wall
Rusty spike on the sidewalk scrawls forbidden poems in new found, plastic prayer

In polyurethane cities of post-populace empire
I stand in the spot light I've waited my entire life for

Just to realize it's police helicopter chasing me down for

Opposing destruction and promoting spiritual journeying

Staying in bed while my home is burning,

Standing in stoic grace as my home cities burn and crumble

NEXT?
Why don't you look at Cease Fire
by: John William McGrath III
from: Mesa, AZ, US

To write us about this page,
contact willy@dreamagic.com (Willy Chaplin)