Thursday, February 3, 2011

Let Us All Wear Tartan

I long for a new world,
the end of shredded bodies
and mothers collapsed and weeping
in rubbled streets

There where ancient soil blackens
with new blood and men under
the influence of fear waste brothers
for reasons unknown to me

And I despair for the moribund child
too weak to brush the flies from his eyes,
the child already dead
as I watch from my couch

The excessive patterns of nightly news
tell me something is wrong,
brutality across the oceans,
across town and in our homes

Fox-jawed tufts of five day beard
and I am madly spiraling toward
the corruption of smoking guns,
the fulfillment of myopic devotees

Let us all wear tartan
and sling the scraps of cloth
across our backs, vie for the paling horizon
where lavender returns from the darkening

Toss the old order like stones
and hold aloft the torch of mystery
Illumine the cavern of snarling faces,
take their hands and never look back

Trust in something you cannot see,
there where the infants rest
Forgive everyone and begin again,
throw away everything you've ever learned

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