What are the collars
of our shirts for
but to hold
back
the
burst

but a doubly insular
and keen witness
to our sweet
noggins
top
our
heads

those blues get
us down
and melt
obligation
to keep
a methodical
still
going

rock and roll?
the duress,
the exhaltation
the fine
release,
the mist

the spirit we mock
is the spirit
that moves
our bodies
to work

apropoganda

The sorority girl gasped
"no!"
"he's so... what a jerk!"
and the sky ripped in two
and down came the rain
dripping from the Land's End
logo
on
to

a bum tinkering
and toying
with the idea of Goebbel;
you know,
the arms stretched forth,
a sea - an inside-out man

and the affection
his own father jettisoned
for a troubled,
turncoat
voyage
across
the
Atlantic

to a strange name:
Soddy-Daisy

The fields are alive
with the sound of music