new sails of pin striped mohair
make land for colonial enterprise
of these coal fired thimbles
to become freshly dispossessed
the neo liberal small change
scatters peoples for no matter
our forests naked of homage
broken again of spirit thunder
the ranges erupted by heavy movers
the ceaseless cities crawling
mites on the cowering three pieces
obsequious to their paltry royalties
those turtles on the fence posts
heads lifted for water upward
the price of all in dried out ambition
the economics of resistance are fragile
beyond the estimates of progress
where value has no description
crumple any flag with fresh hands
opens in confidence an unnamed rose
consumes all to make one colour
count grass quantify a vivacious cloud
walk until there is nowhere to go
if my people should fall tonight
embark me my prairie schooner
ReplyDelete
ReplyDeleteAnd if they should
fall tonight
like a toddler
after a chair
or a someday star
let them stay
in one piece
long enough
to make
something of themselves
Open in confidence an unnamed rose ... love it
ReplyDelete