Thursday, May 7, 2009

The Slack-jawed Jackdaw Sings

With your arthritic fingers

Lace up those tall boots

And stomp down to the edge of the lake

Where the swimmers who can’t swim

Paddle out with their weak limbs

To where all of the fun’s happenin’.

Play the craziest games

The bullied kids never played

Now graced by a fierce awkwardness

Sing songs with your scratchy

Crow-cawing voice

You were given by the Maker of noises

Form the words you were taught

With your blabberin’, babblin’

Blitherin’, mouth, teeth and tongue

Stop your bitchin’ and moanin’

‘Bout all that you don’t have

Stop groanin’

‘Bout the hand you’ve been dealt

Make lemonade with your lemons

Jazz with old, rusty instruments

Dance the dance only a crippled old man

(Or a one-legged child) can.

Shake up the can

Pop the lid off your mouth

And say things that need to be said

To the parents that raised you

The grandparents that inspired you

To live like you mean it today

And maybe the government

Will prove it’s always insolvent

And maybe we’ll see with our hearts

And stop blaming the man

Do all that we can

To bury bones

And build bridges back home

Build a chair, write a poem

Stitch up some old clothes

Make up songs that no one else knows

And sing like a chorus of crows


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