.:The Public Option:.

kriticool · Number of posts: 124 Registration date: 2007-03-04

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a cognizant Congress is a crock
please…chip beef off
the Ole’ Block
cuz in between…we get caught in the middle
another riddle
this scene; a blank screen
alongside a key - bored;
yawning
without a new day dawning
pen; still broken
fires stoked; yet they’re just token
dust collection; massive reflection
pen again…no erection
and
we can not..
we can no longer write away this block
this block and the weight of its world
trips grips; unevenly supported
the blues have thickened
they go unreported

::LIFE

the distorted
with its pistol cocked::deranged
rearranged by a FULL BACK -block
get tar; each scar
facing feathered BLACK rock
rocking back and forth
the peccadillo
marching into another blues night
not even close to being upright
in & out of each fight

::FRIGHT

each time hitting face front; a stunt
brought from way back
so far back any touch is down
soul down the river with
Ole’ Dixie..
it’s the kicks we see
where the best care is never free
remaining in between
poor folk caught in the mean
- time; in the minors
- no majors in the middle
this scene
still a riddle
where back on the block;
we’re subject to rock
we haul it all
legal
& illegal
out onto the corner
avoiding attempts
ways at being a goner
this corner
too often, a coroner
in white gloves;
no doves
an officer who detects
inspects
shots
project ::shuns
sons
gone all wrong
bullets
& the bullshit
going all wrong
where no one
can get to the passer ::bye

eye question why
while under a bent broken street lamp
we still setup camp
the shadowy & the sketchy
acknowledging things like
here comes that ice cream truck
rolling past
another back alley fuck
STD’s nurtured in muck
ringing out that same song
where another blast
gets gone
as
love bleeds
and
flesh needs

::REDEMPTION

add to it
sums of
better protection
the need of
emergency healthcare
where
wealth don’t care
that all niters in waiting rooms
they’re justa
poor mother's affair
a nightmare…her lair
not blocking strife
singing another song; slinging
another wrong…cuts
like a knife
dismissive minds melting together
to gather together
another
ding dong

going

ding dong
going

ding dong

going
ding

then dong

how long
wishing the stench to be dead
instead

ringing
these bells; telling these tales

in between
in the middle of this scene
it’s a maddening
scream;

public option?

expression
- less

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