Poem 7

Pitchforks on a sunny day

Villagers come out to play

Knives to stab the pig

Forks to grab the meat

Roasted crisp with heat

Slaughter brings feast

We all like a celebration

Hot food and good libation

Angry Sky (Poem 6 reworked)

Globes of water shimmer

Modular homes stare back

Dollhouses are complete

With plastic action figures

CHORUS

Angry sky of blue

Angry sky of gray

Lazy drops of water

Tinsel on grass

Like Xmas trees in rain

Cold and wet grass

Wraps my arms and jeans

I dream without care

CHORUS

Angry sky of blue

Angry sky of gray

Rolling in the mud

Of watery holes and ditches

Wet air hangs from the storm

Yelling fighting hatred

I can hear from the yard

Clouds carry me to sleep

CHORUS

Angry sky of blue

Angry sky of gray

The ricochet of words

Alarm bells ring louder in my mind

I press my hands to my ears

And I scream

CHORUS

Angry sky of blue

Angry sky of gray

Chore

Grimy stage and glaring lights,
I cannot stand this place tonight.

Crowds pushing me into the wall,
I did not want to come at all.

This poser band, these weak-ass drinks,
Bass roars so loud i cannot think.

Let's get away. Where's the door?
I do not want this anymore!

I do not want you, filthy whore.
I do not want to be your chore.