Reel

Choose moment foiled Over moment gone or none. Penance paid all bard alas anon. Bars of boxcars rolling down Canals of clotted wax; These are the facts As I know them to be; Sum total me. Scratch barleycorn For earth and inch for truth. All tiny, tiny words In huddled masses gathered, Shouting to lexicons of legion To be heard; Dismissed among the ignorant, Ravished by the mute. Small signs a-stirred, Greater eye to bear. Greens of noble painted On a dolly rode in blush. Gathered, huddled masses moaning, Leaders gone in rush. Each laddered youth Hurled and hurtles trying; Downward where were depths Of others dying. Stalwart soldiers any age, Refrained of vigor, Each enabled page to what advance, Their worried families charge. For some day one be stored In someone’s garage, To this day or that, This club or bar Or water cooler chat, Between the sips and drips And pressing, passing lips Of death stood still. A word of faded quill. Sometimes times will reach Into each soul To wrench a tear; Not so often fear, But poised and posited, Twirling dance Of darkened hope. Spoke and spake And speak and leak and leave; Never grieve for what it never was. And huddled, muddled, Gathered masses weep and cheer. Gasses bottled. Grasses mottled. Leopards changing spots. Dots connected, Sinners unprotected; Searched until their eyeballs bled Yet could not see their own with same That flicker once, until the flame be out. Done by water cooler spout And with the masses tiny, huddle now.