Saturday, March 05, 2011

Bird-cage politics

A fiery cracked persona stands as the leader
of a flock of helpless, compliant pigeons. The crowd
is perched together, waiting for
its ammunition as the brash man stands
shaking, convinced of the medicine that
he offers. His collar is choking his
neck, causing the heat of the sun to dew
his brow into beads of sweat. Un-relented
he releases with fury his gospel of bullets
and chaff. The compliant pigeons swarm
to the carcass.

1 Comments:

Blogger Dead 2 MySelf said...

This poem reminds me of Don Cherry and Oboma

12:23 PM  

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