The bones beneath us

When you strip away the bars

and the bars that hold them

the bars of turn-key century asylum

and the prisons we covet so heady

Said once to be wild and birthed of blood

lead shilling between the eyes

for anyone to poor to afford the coin

and with closed eyes we sing:

"our mothers purring for us innocent spawn

passed down hymns to the waltz of weak fawn

stumble raised better than raising barns

our mothers sweet hymn how tough we've become

sipping the same bottles now twist and sterile

washed with bleeding mops the feral

they ran on 6 legs with aches in their sides

and blood beating from boxes

to structure fires...

of grace and the bad men that follow:

red faced spirits and red laced vision

missing limbs and over-drafted account

seeking freedom from foe and reflection

are we much more then it has ever been

the lines carry informed harvest

above in the barbed sky

the telegraph set afire in 1859

now cowhide mashed and malformed

by self assigned hands of god for purpose

for fashion

for passion

for fun

the tappings admit:

"we sit spinning at target practice

we rise leavened on the bread we break

the chorus of dark red sand rich in iron

"today is the day of our life" they sing"

like grasshopper legs over sunset fields

the bones beneath use vibrate

we continue to feel:

"the skulls ringing for the forgotten genius

left dead behind soiled shack

the good hearted fools, the wailing ones

the broken mothers backs"

I am but the operator the coveted call

how wonderful "the prophet"

was never not

forgotten by all.