nails
aversion please me
veiled faces bowed like shame
shared alike with commoners with little changing rights
the lumbering movement of democracy
and from its tent and golden flags aloft were seen
three riders two astern one in red and one in yellow one in green
who uphold a fat book culled from lore
written in the stodgy legal verb its herbal over run with weeds
sly vines of interpreters its climbing magisters
and deaf leaf of bureaucratic programs
hell typed its pages
and used it as a template from which to beat
the iron chains upon subversions forge
with all the vigour that its sweating limbs could bring to force
your limbs - fools - that made those changes
that sweat diverted in its limp canals to trench around a the prison walls
here and now
in the salt encrusted dance within the small celled walls
and in its dark chambers and its torture pits is found
the gross and some time limbered warden
you love to loath and love
then start to dance
and beat upon the floors and chains
a farandango full of quanta and of chaos
and sometime sitting out of lethargy
think about direction and the footsteps made by music such as this
and watch the lithe girls dance
whose vibrant hips and trance like stare
forebode the change that sweeps the evil jailers
with the many notes of change
and drives them like nails into the walls of cells
like indents fading into plaster
and the passing fabric of the place
our world
think again about how justice forms
and in what growth it should be
for apparitions are we all upon times tree
whose many limbs directions each one able
though we are limited to maybe one
the crucial choice is in your minds
to take maybe not the strongest bough
and lets it leaves renewed be spring