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and to think i saw it on floyd terrace

Tim Martin's Sonnet Project

Saturday, November 12, 2011

War Cry


babe, you have to let the pizza cool
when naming names just to be bellicose
despite the brides of dispossessed peddlers
who trades their trades in rough instances
in vain hope to invent the circuitry of the stars
that is present in circles somewhere in roshambo
you follow the guitar and expect rock
and the ticket is yours so there are no choices
any fool knows this human experience
but i am hostage to circus bears in vienna
and know nothing of the language here
dear marionettes, we cannot articulate
our needs properly sorted from our wants
we just wait until we think we beat the system

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