What of the knowing wind
of Hendrix on vinyl
songs of silence
lately branded for our own good?
What of prayers,
my steeple?
Down now
covered and quashed
the queen's garment stolen.
Tell me, dear Nurse, where
the old song
ends...
someone ordered 'stop
or you'll be (cast-) rated'
Gored upon the
twin horns
of
(relatively) Good Taste &
(reasonably) Free Expression:
The rhythm of the
bed springs
is no longer permitted.
Now's the time to rise,
shine,
speak in the vernacular to
new friends (no more room for
enemies)
fall in love with the company.
Cretan Maineiac
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/1986-rebel-s-lament/
