wild monkey man
(should have been the lead singer)
your big boots stepping on
the bones of the second wave of man
tune out of time’s tunnel
you’ll hear the eeries
the mother’s wail
the swoosh of the club
then blade then arrow then
cannon and bullet
the quiet village cow
in the pasture outside the
quiet village didn’t see
the black machine death coming
neither did the village lad who
one day in his spunky youth
jumped into the mud up to his hips
boots full and leg wrappings rotted
the screaming bubbling lungs
of 1915 made earth for your feet
and you’ll never know
which hostel bed held his brother
and the wicked dark whore of 1916
in the kitchen of 1872 your
feet touch the corner where the
little girl who looks so much
like ours cowered from the cannonade
before the walls fell and the top hats
came in to have their way
the dust is blood long dried
in the sunshine and feeding
the gorgeous trees with the
love and fear of one hundred thousand
years or more
the roaring of time
the singing of spinning earth
you stand on courageous tears
and faded villainous murder
the dust is blood
wild monkey man