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.