NaPo Discussion 2014

Your bagpipes appear to be dummied up in these cattle lands,
and we scarcely hear your noise anymore.


All is too quiet here, and before we suspect
the opiates, the cottonseeds, the dust
it all tumbles and flowers
and penetrates through to the cracks of your skin.


We exist
as felons.

We're flooding everything down our path,
drowning it
asphyxiating it, dropping the hammer
where nothing bubbles back.

Israel's laws have long disappeared in these parts,
and macaroni-mustacchiooed men now gather
with panty-loved breaths and each wanders to himself,
how far up does this ladder go?
they're fat on Swiss,
but X-ray those wreckers long enough
and you'll see it.

It is small and it is hidden deep
and it still marches back to
the sound of your bagpipes,

you've only got to play.