(Part III to A new song in America Series)
an old song
many reluctant voices
all in
harmony.
the voice
we hear
is our
fear.
an old song after
another.
We sing together,
a choir
of survivors.
We sing,
We must
We must
Yes –
but do we have too?
(Part III to A new song in America Series)
an old song
She was, is, was-
A bit of a,
Uh, umm-
(I have it written down somewhere)
see you next Tuesday or Thursday
Later.
As,
We, do -
the wave..
Goodbye.
Wave, wave.
Now surf-
It’s the latest-
The surfer stomp:
Dance-
It’s the latest
Craze
She was a bit,
Craze, craze
All the Rage.
Latest-
later-
All the Rage.
A fad.
Super sonic,
The S is for super-
Look up in the sky, it’s a bird it’s a plane…
She was a bit -
A tad -
A pinch -
Sugar and spice.
But,
She was a bit.
She was a bit much.
A bit
Ch ch ch ch
Turn and face the strange.
Why xwhyz?
Bit But Because:
"If I put it in my batter, it will make my batter bitter."
she said.
[Before the whole cookie crumbles]
and the days feel like they are getting shorter,
and shorter
the light is dimming,
and the shadows
grow longer,
spreading
until it becomes the night
Turning down noble prizes like Jean Paul Sartre
The Christmas card
my mother gave me-
was
blank with the exception of my name
Had I been even slightly better lookin
I would have ended up
listenin to Hip Hop and learning Tagalog
I can not fly, without you,
but
refuse to fall
by myself
[Thought I'd expand my horizons-
I'd never dated a Persian girl before.]
You held on
and now sing this song
about how everything went wrong.
sing about the grief
but oh the relief
such relief