Sidewalk Mouthing

Silent waves, hello
we can't all remember faces
but circumstances leave impressions
better than names
remember whens are so worn out
we need a handle to drag them down
to be recycled, for what its worth
I'll wheel bottles
on a radio flyer,
until it doesn't hurt--

Show me a man with something to lose
I'll show you a coward,
who's afraid of death
debt makes him lose
the feel of power
under green cards, red cards
bent in cards; its all margin
debit cards that turn orange,
Like my American Flag isn't something foreign

But I'd rather chew
the shitty news
in zip locked bags
and sewn wool hats
than ever be the man who invents
the tool to be used for the craft
or the secret stash
for a sunny day
where supplies just meet demands
but never reach the hands,

yeah,
I'd rather shoot the breeze
then scrape my knees
and keep my hair neat
because no matter the size
of the badge or the king or crown
or the lock or the hinge
or the sound of the cocked arms
ready for more wars--

I'd rather silent waves
of common names
pens that take the tally
tabs-- dibs and dabs
of hands that shake
through common ground--
our "philosophy,"
"I dig what you're into,"
our 401 k-- "can I bum a drag,"
or social security harasses me
and photographs me

and Orwell never told well
of the sectors private investor,
dare I venture into public affairs
clean air passed a bill in 2007 see
for me to be taxed heavily
on a pack that's taxed so mightily,
but we won't dare go there