Warming Up

Contrary to popular and obscure opinion
we are not creatures of digital gadgets or seasonal fashion
we are more than shopping in drugstores.

Under our roofs, down our aisles, thinking only in dollars
afraid of truth and our bodily functions, we all play ball
blind to human burdens and fortunes.

Anciently and now our sticks are stuck
in mud and rock of rules
paint our plain faces, kill a cow for luck
decorate a queen with jewels
celebrate the power of fools.

Glacially we live in caves in another ice age.
How many centuries more will we mumble for our wages and arrange
trinkets on the necks of our dead kings?

Here maybe there, songs are sung, dances danced, about how
in days of constant spring, children and their adults will disavow
the making of money and war on the poor.

Winter sits in every man and woman
we hide in heavy clothes
we slow down, grind beans, sip some coffee, wait
we play with dice or dominoes
until what we are made of shows.

It’s warming up, like a breath, like a quick slap of cheek
like after ideas flow, after the conversation picks up
we can feel it, everything more real.

[A in 4/4]
F ///  G /// Am7 / Dm7 /
EbMa7 / F9 / G7 // Eb7  E7 / Gm7 /
AMa7 /// C7 ///

[B in 3/4]
F // Ab6 // Ebm9 / Cm7 Eb7 //
Gm7 //  Gm11//
C7b5 // F13 //  D7 //
F // ///  G // D9 // Bb6 // C7 //


About mrsorenson

NOT my president
This entry was posted in poem, poetry, song and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

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