they try to organize our feelings,
here lets celebrate some small victory
in the effort to put your hearts at ease--community,
look into this lens and see
what we are doing to keep your familys safe and sound.

shots fired,
there are insects all around you,
doors are locked, each neighbor is either
a commrade in the silent trenches of dissolving
urban america,
or a well armed enemy, bayonettes at the ready,
and the camera lens still holds steady.

spin-doctor, southern comfort, ice-pack words
from politicians,
their portfolios are heavy with precise words
to quell thanatopsis,
o, visions of death they are illusions,
soft reality is my snake-oil and i am selling it to you
from the steps of this great colossus, these stubborn whispers of unrest
they are not yours,
my hypnotic rhythmic poetry, my soapboxing, i extend my etheral hand to you
o heart of man, o, ever watching, hardworking, frightened friend,
i am in your trenches too, in spirit if not body,
in heart if not in flesh,
tho my flesh is not pierced, and my spirit is not bent
beneath these needles in this haystack,
i am here for you, and i speak for you, if not your paycheck,
if not for your health, at least i am with you in your patriotism
in this great place we called a dream.

neighbor, watch my back, there be devils here,
and the lens looks on unblinking.

07/12/2012

Posted on 07/12/2012
Copyright © 2026 Vikki Owens