By Christopher J. Bradley
4/27/2003 2:29:01 PM
They only think they will be saved
When the hatchet is buried in the grind.
Let them play with their silly
And Wear their funny
For tomorrow they will fall like
Dumbo from the burning Sky.
In this room I see a spider plant
That is not real
And American flags
And a poster from a horse
I see the raining stars
And an Eagle with a tear at it’s cheek
I see an Elle magazine
And a rack for more
And I wonder what life is like in Chicago
Florida is still cold in March.