Soul, You too are just another locust, Only lonely in the swarm, Soul, You pagan clinging to this body, Your rabbit’s foot, your charm Against the death that pricks Your ears up in alarm, Soul, You firecracker hidden in a midden, You prize that is in every box, Soul, You web designer, working from home In nothing but your socks And in that home so scared you spend Your whole life checking locks, Soul, You self-proclaimed sequoia felled With just a couple thwocks, Soul,
You too are just one more deserter,
Haggard, eager to disarm,
Hoping these Americans
Don’t mean to do you harm