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| Drowning Hand ~ Eric Drooker |
The chalk cliffs wave white flags of surrender to the drowning man
The green and pleasant interior teems with pureblood warriors
Who angrily type newfound words of war
Virtuously signal their reasonable compliance
With the passive aggressive decrees of their elected dictators
Baby knows her parents’ woes and wonders at her own stormy future
The weather front heads in dark from all directions
A deluge that will drown all doubters and deniers
The patchwork man deserts the podium and raises another glass to sundown
On his ancestral plot the sheep are left to rot
While the wolves seek greater slaughter
The green and pleasant interior teems with pureblood warriors
Who angrily type newfound words of war
Virtuously signal their reasonable compliance
With the passive aggressive decrees of their elected dictators
Baby knows her parents’ woes and wonders at her own stormy future
The weather front heads in dark from all directions
A deluge that will drown all doubters and deniers
The patchwork man deserts the podium and raises another glass to sundown
On his ancestral plot the sheep are left to rot
While the wolves seek greater slaughter
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