Feeding snow to Jamaicans
How I won my own personal war
Learning to turn cheeks of others
As each flake falls wondering why the tunnel stays tunneled
Oh, branchy path
Poke mine eyes clear out
That I may one day be more than a surveyor
While I would never be caught selling eye ball skewers
Roadside, on behalf of trees
To snobby to sell them for themselves
Nor would I be a purveyor
Of cones, chips, or chopping blocks
But feeding snow to Jamaicans
Gives me that warm all over feeling
That I am making a difference
Changing things one step at a time
To a place where grocery bags can be reused once
And thunderbirds can be indiscriminately placed on liquor bottles
Without worry of offending
Dear mother
She has split her seed bag open
And is pouring out the remains
If you had any sense at all
You would collect it
And sell it to the Jamaicans
Or better yet
Find your own island economy
You slothy curmudgeon
--
1.7.11
How I won my own personal war
Learning to turn cheeks of others
As each flake falls wondering why the tunnel stays tunneled
Oh, branchy path
Poke mine eyes clear out
That I may one day be more than a surveyor
While I would never be caught selling eye ball skewers
Roadside, on behalf of trees
To snobby to sell them for themselves
Nor would I be a purveyor
Of cones, chips, or chopping blocks
But feeding snow to Jamaicans
Gives me that warm all over feeling
That I am making a difference
Changing things one step at a time
To a place where grocery bags can be reused once
And thunderbirds can be indiscriminately placed on liquor bottles
Without worry of offending
Dear mother
She has split her seed bag open
And is pouring out the remains
If you had any sense at all
You would collect it
And sell it to the Jamaicans
Or better yet
Find your own island economy
You slothy curmudgeon
--
1.7.11
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