Thursday, December 1, 2011

UNOCCUPIED

Men being men, women being women

It’s something we’ve all forgotten how to do

I’m not talking about who you love, who you screw

I’m talking about just being you

Mommy always told us

Daddy always showed us

Now we’re holding signs that demand

Mr. President please hold our hand.


Well the President’s got other things to occupy his mind

People starving, people dying—people who were just trying

Soldiers bombing in the night

Killing children, causing fright

As we step over the bodies, hands held out

Mouths filled with nothing but shout.



We all went to school

But we’ve forgotten how to think

Carrying awards for last place

We’ve forgotten how to race

We can chant and we can cry

We learned that at knee high.



Dad broke his back

So you could be some coffee-shop-writing-hack

And mom worked so hard

So I could carry this card—

“Woe is me, Woe is me. Always the duck in this game of geese.”



Take that poetry degree

Light a match, set it on fire

Paper has no power to inspire

The pen may be mightier than the sword

But action divorces direction if it’s lost in a hoard.

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