In a worst case scenario,
as the Arts are squeezed and filed under trivial,
by vote-seekers clinging to power,
consider the tumbleweed loneliness
of a world emptied of poetry
by a transient political shower.
The austerity oiks on a decent wage,
choke the creative day after day,
and the results of their efforts to be worthy -
they fuck things up and walk away.
They mess with the schools,
shut libraries down,
there's no cash in the coffers they lie,
yet there's millions and more
suddenly found to fund wars
and send young kids to die.
They mess with the schools,
shut libraries down,
there's no cash in the coffers they lie,
yet there's millions and more
suddenly found to fund wars
and send young kids to die.
So, churn out the words, the phrases, the poems,
clear your throats and shout yourself hoarse,
drown out the negative bullshit,
for poets are an unstoppable force.
clear your throats and shout yourself hoarse,
drown out the negative bullshit,
for poets are an unstoppable force.
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