For A Future Administration

For A Future Administration
A.Z. Foreman

I sleep and the sunset is scarlet.
The mind's too blown open for sleep.
The mist is whistling of serpents.
God takes a wolf for a sheep...

I dream of dark like vinegrowth
Rising up the wall,
Of small men who will rise at sunset.
But in sunset their shadows are tall.

Till all light is threaded through streetlamps
As windows listen and glare,
Till couples wink out in columns
Through the blinded city square.

When the men wear the blues for a jacket
And an eye is the fine for a tooth,
And innocence begs for mercy
On his knees in a brothel's booth.

The Chosen One in the night-house
Will bless a chalice of brine.
The flag is not waving but drowning
Your darling Clementine.

He will protect the nation
Behind his mural of dawn.
Yes, he will care for your nation,
And mow you like a lawn.

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