new poem

Grinding my ax

My ax is grinding
All by itself!
I can hear it giving itself to the grinding wheel
Every day when I wake up,
Most nights when I go to bed.

I am just grinding it.

What would I use it for?
To cut down my enemies to size?
To swing against the foundations of the NSA?
To destroy the diabolical machinery
That is excavating the tarsands in Alberta?
To obliterate all the missiles and missile silos
In the US and Russia and China?
To chop through all the walls that Israel has built
Over the years of its morally bankrupt occupation?
To use the butt-end to smash through
The prejudice and thickening armor
That our politicians weld
Around their hearts and minds?
To slice through the artery
That sluices our tax dollars into the military machine?
To sever my connection with all of the dysfunction
Of my paranoid, backwards nation?
Or just to chop through the gate
That keeps the pony of my spirit
Pastured where the grass has long since died?

   — Gary Lindorff