We Engage in Feeding Frenzy

I need to write this before I can be free Of meat-powered submarines, To struggle against surface tension boundaries, To urge apart my habit-ranked infantries, To... reach something like a certainty... We all know to hate the ivory trade, And love to hear pianos played, Mozart's keys were elephant graves, Now how does your culture taste? I'm telling you now, you SHOULD be afraid. Some say the flag of the South means pride, Some say priests are holy inside. This is what *I* will confide: Swastikas don’t bring luck, that's been tried. Having a cause does not justify. Guns aren’t excused either; If we gave AKs to the Crusaders, They would just give us martyrs, I'm not here to be your teacher, But oil is dinosaur flesh, remember? From my perspective, speaking We engage in frenzied feeding And I say again, entreating: I won’t see you retreating - The truth is the important thing. The flag is buried in bones The church is just as damned as you And the notes you pound have meaning, You stab the keys and elephants bellow These words, that go to "Jeunehomme."third note: 2nd revision - took stephanie's suggestion, except for the last stanza, which I haven't figured out yet. Mostly, I find the first stanza to still be richer and more effective than the rest. I am considering rewriting the rest entirely. (second note: Ok, new revision - evened out the stanzas, added 1-5 rhyme scheme, pared down some excess imagery. Right now the first stanza is much cooler than the rest. Ideas?) (first note: Very much unfinished, but I'm having trouble deciding which direction to go with this.) Written April 20th, 2002 © on Apr 30 2002 05:26 AM PST   0 • 11 • 9