Something Green

Fleeing blood

Flooding  buses

Freed from abuses

Into abuses

No room in Spain

‘Til they die of old age

Most all of Europe

All the West

It’s the same thing

The same way

We did this before

Stinking sneaking

Victory by deceit

Hung’ry stand

Jumping razor-wire

Hearts fibrillating

Plenty of land

All owned

Coughing up green

Green backs

Just listen

War cries

Children’s mouths

Oh surprise

Bomb paradise

Cold hearts desire

Don’t take my pie

I don’t even have

A cherry left for you

Not even poisonous


China plates proudly

Antiquarian glass

Walk the giants shake

Collectors come to take

You took we took

They cart away

Today and yesterday

Bury eighteen inches deep


Screams the woman

Bloody everywhere

Haunted faces

Marching in

Marching feet marching

Drums beating

War drums play

Northern kings pray

Eastern kings look

Bloody eyed

At one another

Laughing idiots


A blond circus master

Rants for his masters

Cameras edged

We fixate on the play

While Rome is set afire

No the people do not see

Until it is uprooted

In the fire

None will breathe

But the end won’t matter

The killers

Will finally

Destroy each other…

…and something green sprouts.

Someday some soul

Will dig us up

Covered in the jungle

That survives.

They will make up

Stories of our lives.

We won’t be there

To hear them.

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