PROTEST SONG OF THE FELLAHIN poem by T. H. Keyes


ritualistic frenzy,

admiring the autocratic 80′s Angel of Death

reggae ecstasy,

nuke-tipped missiles providing phallic imagery

plutonium punk-rock

mindlessly drumming, completes the emasculation process

(cars whiz by full of Rocky Flats workers,

who today will fashion yet another

gleaming, growing, glistening monster)

who among the rootless, servile masses

would dare to join in such futile protest?

who, instead of proper worship

at the altar of insane progress,

would seek somehow to cast down

the golden calf of annihilation?

***


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