6591. FRIEND OF THE MAN-GUY

FRIEND OF THE MAN-GUY

Out front of the fire station they're selling apples

from a cart. They've got them piled high, but I

don't know the price. I really don't. It's the day

the Civil War ended a long time back, and all

these people now just make me nervous.

-

In darkness, when I play cards, it's with someone

close to a Faustus idea  -  someone dark and brutal,

making deals while picking his teeth with a flame.

Down by Sewaren Bay the boats are all sinking or

the dogs are all running, while the sailors in Noah's

Ark are drinking again to the bar band's playing.

-

We've killed this ruinous nation  -  not saying, no

matter, which crazy-assed side won that war. The

Blues and the Grays, who the hell cares  -  everyone's

dead by now anyway and no black folk are drinking

inside that bar. Oil tankers float in the water, and on

land the white tanks are filled with the crud of an

unspeakable crude that befouls all the lands around.

-

Maybe that's why we fought, in our minds, these old

storylines again. So we could decimate the land with

roadways and gas puddles like we decimated the  

750,000  kids that war killed. That would be 7.5

million in number today. Like the guy said, 'The

Civil War ended   -  somebody won and somebody

really lost.' Ho-hum, I wouldn't know.

-

I've got so much to do, I'm drowning in work and

paper  -  things yet to read, words to be written, 

and all that learning to yet continue. 150 years ago,

just like that, the blink of an eye, just like that yeah.

Where'd it all go? And why?