(Leviathan does not typically carry two forms of I.D.
And will not wait in D.O.T. lines forever.)
. . .When the wasps first lit on the awning
In the first light of the dawn of spring,
We continued to open our windows and spanked our children's talking-back asses raw,
Getting them out of our hair and into the out-of-doors.
(The wasps invited more.)
-Good old Amos!
Amos burned an American flag in the Capitol building
And refused to serve the mandatory community service
And did not apologise to the troops or minorities in mandatory written form
And did not laugh at the cued jokes
And did not sacrifice his head at the altar of the omniscient Stages of Development
And did not trim his hair according to medical breakthroughs
And did not set forth according to the captain of industry's maps, and
Said instead, 'Mr. Mayor Incarnate, Mrs. State Secretary, - the Flood will make a statuary
Out of them, out of us, on that day She interrupts and arrives.
Heavy-chested, in hives, our dam-workers will have had their fill of woes in
Our negligence we have summoned a sigh rise forth,
We tease our pearly-eyed inviting women in the south whilst from the North
Back-burner pots even now bubble over to sleepy shadows, and the
Toothy fed feasts of ours remove fear of the Waters rising in the West.
Clammy-eyed, those dam-workers can't continue to hold all our woes.'
(The wasps have even now disappeared amid, within the awning)
'For our centuries, we have thrust our City down in the "valley"
And made the "valley" all ours;
When the time falls ripe, the River will come to lay claim Her bed,
And She shall only know in her heart that She has been meant
To sleep in Her bed (our "valley"),
Even as Leviathan disregards any hooks or screams in his next drumstick meal
-These ant legs on Her bed
She does not comprehend
-But She feels the rhythm of the Order of Vocations,
She has always known Her bed well.
'Bid farewell to this present house, children-
So I say, and you laugh, and your hands shield your temples from me.
Leviathan can't be hooked and flashed forever.
When will we hear? will you see?
For we have already woven wasps within
All walls, and swallowed Leviathan goldfish with giggles;
But these are our new walls, dammed "valley"
-Because we disliked the hue of the old walls
That are still in our place by the river bed
-Because we preferred Her bed to our own
And forsook the gentle Stream in Her bed
-But these are our news walls, dammed "valley",
That were made out of negligence, bile, wasp eggs . . .'
(Dregs and smiley clanks await and are summoned for silly Amos profusely;
We still hum, doubt; new
News bulletins flee from the Bells that might - that have just now sounded the toll:)
'When will we hear? will you see?
-Who me? but I do love the City,
but I love the River who loves Her valley,
I do love the Name who set our City.'
-r
