hatching from my egg to crawl beneath the mold and soil
to sip and suck the roots of forests under silent ozark hills
twenty two thousand miles above, satellites beam video
of cold-eyed bombs in black and white zooming down chimneys
tympani and trumpets pound and blare around the clock
province nineteen gets retaken while the oil fields burn
and down in arkansas strategies are laid for the man from hope
to succeed the lipless guy from skull and bones and texas
but i hear nothing more than the whisper
of decomposing leaves and the snorting of a boar
beside a california freeway the boys in blue beat rodney to the ground
but i see nothing in my darkened world below the sprouting oaks
the soviet union splinters, the warsaw pact dissolves
miles davis hits his last blue note
and i go on eating for another sixteen years
emerge and split my skin one last time
with my million brothers my million sisters and now we sing
to a world with tiny telephones and speakers stuffed into its ears
where webs spun from ones and zeros glue eyeballs to screens
blood and words and oil still soak the real estate, this warming spring
the bombs are smarter, am i? i wonder.
but for this summer i'll sing within this chorus,
try to find that certain other one before i die
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