2015 07 31
My stone heart explodes out red nuclear fire
that becomes my awesome Superman cape
so I soar above world of changing forms
when we watch drama of our civil war
in national play about power struggle
that follows formulaic script I wrote.
I fold my political manifesto
in paper airplane, and launch it to soar
over vast empires of asphalt and steel
where billions of people, robots of glass,
play their pre-programmed roles in social games,
gathering in libraries to read their poems,
then tear books of verses in shreds and toss
concepts from windows that flutter like snow
torn from wings of angels shot down by guns.
After I crawl again from well of eyes,
dripping oil from heart of our bleeding Earth,
I transform from angel to iron man
and walk this world, hacking down trees of fruit
where Adam and Eve weep in drenching rain.
My stone heart cracks open at dawn of time
and seed of light blossoms, unfolding tales
of fallen heroes into Tree of Life
that spreads limbs of computer wires in web
of dreams over metropolitan towers,
but silk hair of Rapunzel is not long
enough to rescue thirsty souls from hell
who cling to each other in blinding hope
though no messiah ever comes again.
Your messiah already came last year
but you arrested him, and shot him dead,
and left him to bleed on arrogant street,
and he will not rise again from mute death,
and he will not give you eternal life,
and you must protect yourself from wild mob
inside surrounding walls of dollar bills.