Thursday, March 21, 2013
Shock and Aw shucks
Let's call it a poem because it has no direction, no meaning, no purpose some rhyme.
Just words on a page (but not a real page) anointed with feelings from time
that no one remembers, or hardly recalls-- when life didn't matter,
especially your life or mine.
Sadness prevailed and cowards were pussies and pussies were cowards alike,
Bombs fell on Baghdad and nobody asked me so I got drunk and I rode my bike.
Now I care more, (still nobody asks)
I ride bikes, but not like I did.
I ride them for pleasure (for glory! for pain!)
While others can't ride now or walk, or eat breakfast, or kiss, make love, or sweat money-
or die a quick death like their friends.
The smart ones care nothing for the lives of others.
It's a sucker's bet once and for all,
The night bombs fell on Baghdad nobody asked me and so I did nothing at all.