windmill farm Italy

D J Daniels #57 Aug.26/13

“A poem is a dinghy setting out to sea
from the listing ship of society.” Lawrence Ferlinghetti

“Make new wine out of the grapes of wrath”*

No more marching. Or sitting. Or chanting.
I just end up crazy mad. I mean it.
Angry enough to kill…for peace.
Sort of defeats the purpose, I suppose.
I need to calm down or they’ll lock me up
Again. I’m kidding. Had you going there, right?
Don’t you get tired of it all though? Rhetorical
rhetoric…now, that’s crazy-making…and still
“No matter how cynical I get, I can’t keep up”
Lily Tomlin said that years ago; I wish I’d said it
I say it all the time now. Peace? Such a fuzzy
impossible dream…do you see a windmill I can
tilt at? What? They’re everywhere? Finally.

*also L.R.


Glad you came by to read, be happier still if you left a few words...

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s