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Poem
Success is not a Capitalist Cheat nor an Old Whore that seduces the innocent
Away from the door of Freedom

Good Fortune is not a mere happenstance that unfairly favors the Wealthy

It is the rain of daily sunlight
Into the upstretched palms
Of the embittered man
Who can't take one drop more
Of the sewage he calls Capitalism...

But I understand...
When one has lived too long in the day
He may appear to forget the howls
And wails
Of those whose only light has become the moon
Because they never see the Sun
Because they are at work
From the time before the Sun gets up,
Until after the time He goes down...

These are the night-possessed
Whose only hope is to transform the world
Into peat for the fire
And to burn it down...
But then we would all be were-wolves --
There will no-one left to be meat,
And we will hunger
More than before...
At least let some be sheep
Who will play the Sacred Lambs
And be food
For the poor,
Heart-broken wolves
Who starve in the stick-like forests,
Devoid of happy hopes

Who light the fires
And burn the very forest
Down around them
Hoping for warmth
Until there is no fuel
But only
Cold Ash

What was once a World
Is now become
A nuclear terror
A winter of the heart
Where selfish men
Hand out sandwiches --
Hundreds! --
Without any meat
Between the bread...

Poor wolves!
Skin stretched,
Ribs sticking out.

I would care for them
And feed them
All their lives
If I could

And let them write poetry
And tend
The Holy Garden,

Made Holy by a rain
Of clean sweat
Shed under the Sun!

But I have only my blood to give...
Fine then!

I will bleed
That they might not hunger
Whom the world
Has treated poorly...

Only I can bleed
Only so many days
Till I am dead...

Poor wolves!
Poor world!

Upon whom
Shines only the Cold
And selfish moon
Sent to stretch their shapes
Into eternal suffering...

We had best have a beginning again
That nurtures the Earth
And plants new trees
And teaches the now-silver wolves
To eat fruit
Again!

But only a happy dance
Only a happy dance
Will save them free,
Will save them free,
Will save them free,
Till Victory

Shines down
And they drink from the puddles
Of golden light
From the puddles of golden light
And transform into men
Again!
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