poem 318 of a poem a day for 2012

Porphyria in the water glasses on the dinner table

have you seen how wanting

goes about burning mankind

the conversation at the oil drum goes

with many hands warming over it

in the center of this tin shackle town

we have gone so far

as to be tar baby sinners

but we need food for an evolution

or more bullets for a revolution

to put to an end

this eating of ourselves into

a raw white bone set of wings

just don’t say this too loudly

here in America

someone tells me

their voice hidden

in the glow

and crackle symphonies

of wishes laying silently like mouths

with fangs at the ready

this here nation is

the ultimate sublime stick-up

the full monty crime state

laden with policing that must

eat your young whole

or at least have you leverage

them for strung fool’s gold

and a handful of dreams

that still remember that Dawn

is a vine that we sow

where fences used to go

EJR ©