What would I slip between the edge and jamb
To keep my windy door from slam
What could I soak and spoil with sand
And still retrace a writer’s hand
With what would an ambitious crook
Deceive; what then have thieves to cook
What would we burn instead because
Of things claimed there as ‘is’ or ‘was’
Why would we always race the streets and kill
What would our propaganda fill
How would we fool the laity
Where would we foolishly hide deity
What would I slip between the edge and jamb
To keep my windy door from slam
What could I soak and spoil with sand
And still retrace a writer’s hand
Monday, July 6, 2009
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