Before the Electric Fan Hit Itself
Back then before upheavals upheaved,
people were gracious
but lacked a common sorrow -
it made them a little dull.
Occasionally a local danger
would excite but rejoicing
and grieving never became universal.
Then came the Messengers,
the Messiahs. Devils
followed them like hyenas
to steal their words.
No wonder some wrote poetry
in notepads they carried around
like alien history books.
What with all the heavy heaving
and the collective maddening
we all need a personal testament;
something to believe in. Right?
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