On my belly
I conspire
To Live
A life of crime

Glory above
There is no
Such thing as
No Values

All fortunes
and deeds
become dusty
clouds

On the horizon
There is only
A legacy
of old jokes

Passed down
through births
and marriages
across towns

Held up
by gunpoints
and finger
points

Pinned down
by church
potlucks
and Casseroles

Propped up
by war stories
and movies
About heroes

Brought down
by their own
Glories
In the dust