Daguerreotype
Back when nothing had a name
All the choices seemed more sane
Whose idea was it to smile?
Every jawbone in denial
Pulled-at beards and worn-out eyes beseech the sun.
All that sand's been trod by now
Though the water's sweet somehow,
On the granary floor we find
There's no room for husks and rinds
Pull your broom out, boy: there's something in your eye.
You can clear all the corners with your tongue
You can lip-synch the ballads that they sung
They will only be disappointing if you think they're wrong.
Plucked and varnished laughter falls
What's a patriot after all?
Condescend to bad advice
Eat it up like extra icing:
It's their woodsmoke you're still trying hard to clone.
Whose white ankles were blackened by a phrase?
Everybody concocts their own malaise
Thrusting out of the earth with shaking hands and mottled grins
They told you so.
Winter will not keep us cool
With emaciated rules
We may lag behind a pace
But we won't have sunburned faces
We'll be busy drawing pictures on the ground.
© 1998 John Brocato
All the choices seemed more sane
Whose idea was it to smile?
Every jawbone in denial
Pulled-at beards and worn-out eyes beseech the sun.
All that sand's been trod by now
Though the water's sweet somehow,
On the granary floor we find
There's no room for husks and rinds
Pull your broom out, boy: there's something in your eye.
You can clear all the corners with your tongue
You can lip-synch the ballads that they sung
They will only be disappointing if you think they're wrong.
Plucked and varnished laughter falls
What's a patriot after all?
Condescend to bad advice
Eat it up like extra icing:
It's their woodsmoke you're still trying hard to clone.
Whose white ankles were blackened by a phrase?
Everybody concocts their own malaise
Thrusting out of the earth with shaking hands and mottled grins
They told you so.
Winter will not keep us cool
With emaciated rules
We may lag behind a pace
But we won't have sunburned faces
We'll be busy drawing pictures on the ground.
© 1998 John Brocato