Thursday, January 15, 2015

poem of the day 01.15.15

one million

they gather
by the thousands in paris

in new york we march
and tell the cops these streets are ours

there is always some bloodshed
before these great gatherings

somebody has to die
for the world to come together

i’m not looking for utopia
but it seems that this momentum
collects and then it dissipates just as quickly

we move on
insular and uninvolved

until the next great tragedy
pulls us back into a sense of temporary cohesion

we blame politics and we blame religion
we blame skin color and money

they are all good targets
yet never provide us with an answer as to why

tonight i sit here with my work-a-day ass kicked
full of vodka with a jury summons in my hand

thinking judge not lest ye be judged
and that i can throw stones like they’re made of air

that as long as there are jobs and jury summons
i need never fear international terrorism

tonight i have one million solutions
for what ails the world
shoved deep in my back pocket

but i’m so selfish and low
i’m not sharing them with anyone.                                  

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