Suntanned dandelions under fire
when the days were shorter,
dancing in the breeze of overseas fire,
undone button of democracy
trapepd in a piece of rallyberry pie,
I watch you stoop, pooped,
after sleeping in the weeds
of youthful yappery in a teenage factory,
modelled after a twenty-something
fingernail polish remover.
The revolver slipped from the slipper-
wearin' man who cachooed the fireman.
Put down the words while they're able,
the fiery torch of criticism,
we should read our own reviews
for the news of our survival,
vital to the few in power,
while we sleep softly in the flowers.
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