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Sing out for the repulsed.
The putrid. The obscene.
For all the children just find their way on and in the music scene.  
Sing out for every grandma that shutters as we walk by.
Sing out for every giggle let out at a government lie.
Sing in the artificial moonlight on streets that never see darkness or silence.

Sing in the drunk revelry of youth
and hormones and whispered sweet nothings
nether will remember.
And of looks deep into her. . .
eyes because they are truly the most beautiful thing you have seen this night.

Sing in voices too loud for the hour.  
Listen to the sound of youth plotting revolution and redistribution of power.
But are derailed when they learn the milk has gone sour
and someone must walk to buy more at two thirty on a Tuesday morning.

Sing of the truly mundane immortalized
in novels and short stories and twitter accounts weekly
as the clock switches from Friday to Saturday largely unnoticed.

Sing of me brothers and sisters.
Sing of me as I walk to my future
tired, weary, and feet covered in blisters.
For the walk is long, and time waits for no one.
 Apr 2013 Jessica Thompson
Ugo
Before guns wore make-up,
We used to put pennies in our socks
So we’d always walk on the root of all evil.

Now Wall Street angels frolic through satellite clouds borrowed
from youths educated by universities of smoke and plastic bags.
                  
(The tears of a child are homage to the waning gods)
For in a day not far away,
Over the painted moon of the Morning Son,
The sun will rise wearing the finest war scars money can buy.

And the screams of humanity will be heard from Venus,
Forgetting that the reciprocal of   L-I-V-E   itself  is     E-V-I-L
And perhaps death is the life meant to be lived.
John 10:34 "Jesus answered them, "Is it not written in your Law, 'I have said you are gods'?
 Apr 2013 Jessica Thompson
Ugo
Poison spoon fed the nodding King and ended ancestors.

Holy cows bought government *****
and ate suicides grown by ***** Kubla Khan gospels.

Shantih, Leviticus, and other proper thoughts
kissed arms of air and made islands from memories of breakfast.

Eternity perished in the illusion of swallowed tongues
in the belly of an infant—
and yesterday,

Only one bullet of hallelujah stood swimming.
"It’s a war going on outside we ain’t safe from
I feel the pain in my city wherever I go
314 soldiers died in Iraq, 509 died in Chicago"--Kanye West "****** to Excellence"

— The End —