an amalgam of everything humans did

 

swept into compost bins and vacuumed up .

when kids smoked weed, volunteered

to build houses where there were none.

Placards with rants of our hearts

 

the beat goes on.

 

all the songs were there in our ears –

Guthrie, Elvis, Frank and Lennon

the repeated chants the perfect lies slid into hearts

 

–war and war again. Is it some strange echo?

 

Is there anything better?

 

Cream to butter.

 

just because harmony & beat were there

to ease some ache

something that no gin could fade.

 

We kept playing them because they were there

and gave the thorny present a place to rest.

 

the refrain is there for a reason.