the litter lined alleys
and gutters full of trash,
the naked children cry for their mother’s milk
but the stations have run dry

the brown haze hangs low,
the selfish majority drive their cars,
the power lines buzz and gunshots roar,
but i am content because i know–

somewhere, across the mighty sea
is a place that i want to be,
in the charm of a woman whose arms
where made to hold me

taxes spent on last month’s rent
for a leased nuclear arsenal,
government ploys to employ mere boys
to the office of president

the tv is on,
the imagination has gone,
our children are simple ones or zeros,
but i am content because i know–

that if we spent our rent
on a flower garden,
the leaders of nations would hold hands
and share laughter with the exchange of a rose