Willie the badger
01/10 2021
The days might change,
And the women might nod too
The bird will spread its wings
To the summer too, with its warmth
A celebration is beyond any communication
And it must be, following the bar that was set
To be repaid in the rhythm of the night
The madonna struggled to her feet again
This circle of myself, reflecting from dawn
To twilight in protected, empty rooms
I hear her laughing in the story above
She's taken, by the inevitability of the fall
In the future memory of falsely drawn idols
I start between the ocean of sword
And that of the sinful blood ---
The trumpets blow forcefully, every loss must be my gain
When I heard you say those words
I thought part of me understood
Yet, the shadows still stalk me
And worse, the voice wakes me up
In my imagination there's not even someone
To cash that obsolete check
My chicken bobs his head to T.S. Eliot
As he gives the posthumuous Nobel prize
To Willie the badger
For describing the human condition
& how it feels as you bob your neck.