There are clocks turning backwards
there are rights being lost,
you might think you’re unaffected
but things are worse than you thought.

For your wives and your daughters
are now property of the state;
they’ll be tracking their cycles
and they better not be late.
For your women are now watched
by the militarized state;

The old laws have been eradicated,
cause it’s freedom
the republican fundamentalists hate,
and like the Taliban, your freedoms they’re taking.
You better vote soon, before it’s too late,
cause your rights are disintegrating.

Come fathers and husbands
throughout the land
let’s give them an electoral beating
that they’ll understand
your vote is your voice
so please take a stand.

If the freedom of privacy's worth saving,
you better vote soon, before it’s too late,
cause your rights they’re eliminating.

Rights never will be

granted, first you must suffer --


and then you'll take them.

The ballot box does my persistent fights convey,
to restore what predatory lords did cart away;
because I cast my vote for good governance to enjoy;
that I may integrity in governance employ
by firing evil men who human rights destroy.

the dawn rises over the forest,
the dawn promised to wait for us
in the eyes of the eagle the drums smile
and dance
eagles jump up, take turns around the lake,
one round, the second  round ... fourth,
the drums hit the sky,
feathers fall off,
smoothly
are falling, and
are kissing the grass, and
are kissing the earth
when the eagles come down and down
with the beak  are catching the fish
from below waters
the thundering sounds swear the waterfall to be combed by the sun
when drummers smolder all year round
like the star of the night,
smolder like coal extracted from the hearts of ojibwe people

The bartender says “It’s time to go”
“Because the moon has clamored high
And the sun was banished low.”

They were only speaking to me
I raised my glass, took a swig
belch, “i’m not even empty.”

They grab and toss it in a bin
The crash of glass, the waste of gin
Pollutes the air and that is when

They spoke. It was stern it was cold
“Get out right now! Before I leave
Your chest all gaped. Your chest all holed.”

“I’m a patron,yet you’ve decided
To push me out into the darkness
Lonesome and unguided”

“There are other bars out there,”
“No need to bother us, They said
I bit my tongue so as not to swear.

I made a choice, a simple choice
To sit and stay at the counter.
I cleared my throat and raised my voice:
“Do what you must. Let it occur,
But understand this, we will not be deterred.”

it is one thing
to follow her into the dark

it is another thing
to borrow her fragmented words
and hold her in one hand
and a scale in another
and call it justice

but, by God
(whichever one you’d like to cite today
the kind one, the cruel one, and so on),

it is a whole different thing
to seize her by the neck
and rip the words from her throat
and twist them into cotton *****
and dip them into holy water
and force them back into her mouth
until she can no longer breathe
and no longer live and no longer exist
without drowning in a sense of helplessness
because we, the people, will always remember exactly how
you took your greed and shoved it into her mouth
and down her throat, until you stifled the cries of
‘my body, my choice’ with a book of myths and a man’s voice
weren’t you supposed to be our voice?
what was this all for? was the money so loud that
you could not hear the echoes of pro-choice?
our rage—will it be worth those thirty silver coins?

Give them to the knives, hungry as they are.
Give them to the noose, hang them out to dry.
Give them to the cross, ***** them for the mass.
Give them to the streets, stifling their hearts.
Give them to the soil, welcoming them back.

Give us to the knives, dull them with our hides.
Give us to the noose, loosening it's grasp.
Give us to the cross, tear the altar down.
Give us to the streets, outing all their grime.
Give us to the soil, taking back our lives.

Don’t wanna be restrained to,
Allow for the politicians abuse,
Freedom from the celebrity ruse,
As I struggle with these hues,
Red, White, and Blue.

We’re like toys,
We make noise,
Bring them joy,
We’re easy to poise.

Grab me by my hair,
Throw me in the chair,
Scream at me, “It’s not fair!,”
You say, “You’re a burden I can’t bare.”
I’ll kick your teeth out, it’s only fair.

Life couldn’t give you a more silver spoon,
Sat up in your high chair, tightening our noose,
Drinking from a sippy cup, it’s alcohol abuse,
I hope you forget that karma is on the loose.
Cause we’re coming for you.

Half-dead brutes,
***** of dried prunes,
Master of child abuse,
You are the fake news.

Others will avoid,
You will destroy,
The bombs you deploy,
For the middle east oil,
Brainwashed toys are easy to exploit.