Crouch like a tiger, in the light of the city.
Stink of the Brut, and the news reports.
Benches by the river mold my conscience into dollars,
Buying pie off of Broadway and a case in court.
Growling at strangers carrying Wal-Mart bags, and sadness---
Too scared to love me trees or anyone.
Take off the guise.
Take off the guise because it never helped you anyway.
Strip the lute holes of power. Leave the strings as one to dance about in a forest, on a cross, in a mosque, lover's twilight. Control your course, the sails were lost, the day you woke, the sound was tossed, erratic hate from tv tubes, Rodney bruised, and nukes to lose, Allah blamed, the oil attained, jihad of blood, my mind ablaze.