Dirty dancing with devils
looking disheveled
handing the victims
the shovel
to do the deed,
no heroes
to intercede…
unwell do tell
we failed the
test… as God
won’t bless the foolish
in the folly,
standing clueless,
as the vollies
cut through
the ranks…
no tanks needed
no protesters
gathered,
because they are
preoccupied dancing,
shaking wobbly bits…
versus being militant
with the wisdom,
my people
perish for lack of
insight…
not knowing
subject matter
thusly we are scattered…
a sentence rendered
tantamount to witchcraft
and conspiracy.
Uncomfortable truths
in the form
of those
who you
want coming
to your rescue.
Ahem.
But… it ain’t them.
The hero or heroine,
it seems,
is you.
Don’t endeavor
to drown
in the oceans of tears cried,
dare to float and convert
that which
was weaponized
to destroy
into your raft.
Set sail.
A reading by way of the Pa and Son Adventures...
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