And I would not be convicted by a jury of my peers.~Paul Simon
I receive my invitation to bitch
and frankly, all the dogs in the ‘hood
are howling, the uproar’s pitch
Ransom demands I rage against
inequality/moral scruples now cynical/
abandon tin-whistle marches through the capitol
when war is palpable.
We finally see the global military
empire feeds in battle.
Cages might rattle but I know
they will acquit before the trial.
The roiling unrest, ’cause shit…
The few dial in, take and defend
and we haven’t yet beseeched
snarling junkyard dogs chained out of reach
weaponized and mindless, intent to take
a bite of juicy steak
dangled in the empty air
a lure devised by a billionaire.
But we’re on our way, yipping and cowed
urged by machines’ monotone shrill/
inner peace unplowed/in overkill
we’re losing ground/the mystery
earth walled off and separate
out of time that hurries
us to our doom/it’s all gloom
until we see life’s unfair on the surface
but go deep: magnetic presence
powers us when we are locked
in sth/squabbling lies crafted
just to guide our energy/
that valuable asset
we so willingly provide.
Who gathers up our sweat
and gushes, well, at least you tried?
Soundcloud recording here.