Palm Poem # 5
We are living down our worst nightmares
Inequities a top our host of sins
That we have yet to account for.
The tent preachers beseech us
Lead us to dry river beds
And we are baptized in waves of dirt
And sendimentary rock
Back to our roots,
If you believe all those silly stories,
And we choke
On the decayed innards
Of forgotten grandfathers,
Praying for a deliverance
Beyond parched indigestion
Of the usual salvation.
-- Sent from my Palm Pixi