another letter to an old friend
walden freeman
Posts: 511
whose blood paints the steps of society's front porch?
whose socks keep the feet of the armed warm?
who is a shepherd? why? where did they go?
where have you been?
when can you return?
human or not, animal or not, knot or not
or hair tangling in the great fingers of sunset
who i, lonely starving traveler once held
satisfied, you died alone, inside
once for the poor and twice for the happy
and eternally for the rich beggers
and torn-jeans superstars of saturday nights
at bars off the marshes of southern new jersey landscapes
carved by magicians, carved by starved artists
carved out of earth by zeus or yahweh
or whoever is left to pray to
that we'll be preyed on
tapped reservoirs with legs and flat stomachs
ten-thousand dollar smiles
but the value of the dollar is declining?
miracle after miracle will occur and lift us
from our lack of windows we've discovered
this metropolis to be a graveyard
the joke's on them, we're sewage
but septic enough to infect them
but we choose to remain underground
and claim to be underground and try to get out
calm calm sea calm calm sky
calm calm god calm calm palm holding space
laughing, one giant snowglobe by accident
we are the last great hope
of hopeless minefield wanderers and accident-prone
stained steel too embarrassed to walk outside
don't fear us, world, we are modest
and we are afraid of you
we are afraid of your deities
we are afraid of your intentions
we are afraid of your automobiles and carriages
we are afraid of your history and prehistory
we are afraid of nuclear apocalypse, we'll laugh it off
we are afraid to smile at memorial services
for comedians who gave their lives to save ours
and save our souls from sins
jesus was black, and segregated from this world
jim crow justice but don't regret it
he'll be back, he'll be laughing the entire time
god is measuring us by the inches
by which we've missed the point
the consolation prize is eternity in sulfur
but we can emphasize the fur and have beautiful coats
all to ourselves, never have another cold day
we can become rejuvinated
we can become reborn or born again
we can be afraid of the future but it isn't real
and we all know it, it's a myth
as easy to prove as ever
who seriously gives a fuck about science?
not me and i'm not religious at all
people came from monkeys? dinosaurs died out?
whales aren't fish? they look like it to me
take everything for how it looks on the surface
earth is flatter than our tires when we backed up
over the spikestrips and into the lot
so we could listen to guitar riffs
and lyrics about elderly women
behind counters in small towns we wait
for our own lyrical lifetimes
to end happily; a powerful outro will escort us to heaven,
become entrance music, our pyrotechnics
will blow the angels away but let's hope
heaven's not flammable and is beautiful type one construction
or else we'll have hell to pay!
whose socks keep the feet of the armed warm?
who is a shepherd? why? where did they go?
where have you been?
when can you return?
human or not, animal or not, knot or not
or hair tangling in the great fingers of sunset
who i, lonely starving traveler once held
satisfied, you died alone, inside
once for the poor and twice for the happy
and eternally for the rich beggers
and torn-jeans superstars of saturday nights
at bars off the marshes of southern new jersey landscapes
carved by magicians, carved by starved artists
carved out of earth by zeus or yahweh
or whoever is left to pray to
that we'll be preyed on
tapped reservoirs with legs and flat stomachs
ten-thousand dollar smiles
but the value of the dollar is declining?
miracle after miracle will occur and lift us
from our lack of windows we've discovered
this metropolis to be a graveyard
the joke's on them, we're sewage
but septic enough to infect them
but we choose to remain underground
and claim to be underground and try to get out
calm calm sea calm calm sky
calm calm god calm calm palm holding space
laughing, one giant snowglobe by accident
we are the last great hope
of hopeless minefield wanderers and accident-prone
stained steel too embarrassed to walk outside
don't fear us, world, we are modest
and we are afraid of you
we are afraid of your deities
we are afraid of your intentions
we are afraid of your automobiles and carriages
we are afraid of your history and prehistory
we are afraid of nuclear apocalypse, we'll laugh it off
we are afraid to smile at memorial services
for comedians who gave their lives to save ours
and save our souls from sins
jesus was black, and segregated from this world
jim crow justice but don't regret it
he'll be back, he'll be laughing the entire time
god is measuring us by the inches
by which we've missed the point
the consolation prize is eternity in sulfur
but we can emphasize the fur and have beautiful coats
all to ourselves, never have another cold day
we can become rejuvinated
we can become reborn or born again
we can be afraid of the future but it isn't real
and we all know it, it's a myth
as easy to prove as ever
who seriously gives a fuck about science?
not me and i'm not religious at all
people came from monkeys? dinosaurs died out?
whales aren't fish? they look like it to me
take everything for how it looks on the surface
earth is flatter than our tires when we backed up
over the spikestrips and into the lot
so we could listen to guitar riffs
and lyrics about elderly women
behind counters in small towns we wait
for our own lyrical lifetimes
to end happily; a powerful outro will escort us to heaven,
become entrance music, our pyrotechnics
will blow the angels away but let's hope
heaven's not flammable and is beautiful type one construction
or else we'll have hell to pay!
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