In eighth street eatshops
Leaden words hiss and seal the doors.
“I am not a racist, but-
But. Those natives.”
How long.
how long -
- to choke these hymns of death?
How long to eat the bright paste,
the acrylic lies that melt shut the mouth?
Who will sing truthward songs?
When the young woman, the “Entrepreneur,”
the new waitress comes East to serve
And the dogs bark on her “she’s dirty”
Who would cast over those clean tables?
And who would drive down those lying dogs?
Let prairie winds fling wide the doors,
Scatter the keys. Let us gather round
New tables, look to one another's eyes
- and hear!
O Sing to us, fast flowing river,
Flow West to East and
North to South sing over us -
New songs.
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