In time,
we all become the pearls
until then the
swine have their way.

Oysters and clams and man's desire to rule,
the opening and shutting of mouths
oh
the fool of it,
blowing perplexities like bubbles of gum
chewing on daydreams hoping some truth
will come from the eyes of blind soldiers who
fight for a King to bring home their blindness
who then will sing of
the beauty in war?

only the dead for the quick get away.

Stay awhile Sally and tell me some more of
the why and the wherefore,
art thou the scribe who writes legends on skin
tattoos the bullets that rattle on in and in a moment
of madness draw pictures of children asleep
in the fray,
stay awhile Sally and write me this death of a day.

In time if time allows the why and the how of it
will be written on tombstones and in this place
of dry bones filled with sorrow and grief,
a relief
is surely on the way.