Called out of breath
To be over there when
Bodies amass and gasp
Truncated furloughs
Through downtown no dose
And beated arms grasp
Pointedly for drowning sensation
Raised eyebrows at consumption
and withdrawal
Not content to sit drooping
And chalkboard signs spell stupor
Porous passion
Healing internal wounds
Like feather surgeons
Taking me back re-membered
When all explorations
Held their own song
Wonder if they know…
Just how hard my family works
“Furlough Days” as they like to call it
A cut in pay as we like to call it…..
Here nor there, there are lots of little quirks…..
Now the budgets in trouble again, let’s make them pay
And pay
And pay again!
No more furloughs they said
(As cheers roar through the crowd) “Whhoohoo”
We will just make them pay for their PEBB…..
That’s what we dread
The flowers all are folded
We children used to wear,
The garlands that we molded
Are withered in our hair.
We’ve given up the battle
Of flowering the world,
We’d rather hear rifles rattle
And see red flags unfurled.
Soldier’s furloughs are better
Than children’s holidays
Though shrapnel-wounds are wetter
And redder, than bouquets.
For Mars returns and bloodies
The sky and sand beneath,
The summer rainfall muddies
The white cross and the wreath.
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