It's come to this, the zero degree
Where all urge of surrender has ceased,
The frozen moment, where leopards
Merely stare. There is a war somewhere.
You can hear it on the military bands.
But the war in here, does not give in
Its thaw. One waits coldly for a word
That is law.
Ah, but it was only story time
On that crackling pipe, all the ships to sea
A pale moonlit reflection of the words
I bore each day, of traumatizing fathers,
Zealot moms, cigarettes packed too tight
And an acid point of view on negroes, jews, jews.
Everyone could see it, no one did a thing,
At the Ashkenazi warlords command,
Per the sane one knowing bravery
And the power of the radio
To garble.
There's gold in Nome
And radar towers.
And men who go on ships to quiet die
Smoking Santa Claus cigars
And bearing Jimmy Cagney to the skies,
Where they fly, regardless
Of life and death,
Mere adjustments in the dial,
The game of chess whose master
In Antarctica always wins.
The ice is too thick for human hearts
That burn for any shore.
Even the sane one fell victim.
Condemned as insane he went within, silent
As a radio at the thought he only took a hill
In his heart, where all that matters flows.
