Viewing page 37 of 102

This transcription has been completed. Contact us with corrections.

POLITICAL RALLY

C. ERIC LINCOLN

The hollowness of what they say 
is the echo of the lives men live. 
Their word-facades 
are gaudy like the jungle birds 
squawking and clamoring 
for the votes of men 
with wits like bakers' dough, 
who confused and titillated by it all soon shout 
Hurrah! 
and pawn their empty souls.

Promise Heaven with a bridge 
arching majestically 
across the azure sky. 
Far above the numb and colorless, 
the grey reality 
of hemlock-bitter life on earth 
where hunger is; 
and prejudice 
and hate. 
Where empty souls 
wide mouthed 
with throats dust-caked 
stand yawning 
in the shadows 
and the gloom.

Despaired of God and meaning 
they wait as children wait 
—as if to ride some Eternal Carousel.
They wait 
the frenzied vapors 
of the politicians 
to fill them up 
with rainbow-crystal promises

323

Transcription Notes:
---------- Reopened for Editing 2024-02-09 16:46:47 ---------- Reopened for Editing 2024-02-09 17:03:11 ---------- Reopened for Editing 2024-02-09 18:51:27