Tuesday, March 22, 2011



It was a very bad day

It was a very good day
A bad day on Main Street
A good day on Wall Street
A bad day for education
A good day for ignorance
A bad day for lovers
A good day for haters
A bad day for peace
A good day for the merchants of war
A bad day for working families
A good day for corporations
A bad day for justice
A good day for black mail, green mail,
and the scarlet letter industry
A bad day for the first amendment
A good day for the second
A bad day for pursuit of happiness
A good day for the private prison industry
A bad day for the heads
A good day for the juicers
A bad day for the masses yearning to be free
A good day for the oppressors
A bad day for tolerance
A good day for bigotry
A bad day for mercy
A good day for torture
A bad day for public TV
A good day for FOX News
A good day for mama grizzlies
A bad day for cougars
The people have spoken


Yeah, I believe in angels.

I saw two of them down near the river
at shift change last Thursday
They’d stepped back between the buildings
To keep the cold rain off their wings
I guess
They were talking and
I heard one say
“Sally’s back on the crack
I saw her light the pipe last night
Down at Third and Central.”
Then the other one said
“Yeah, tell me about it
I’ve been looking over Bobby’s shoulder
for the last three days
while he studied his reflection
in the razor blades.
Last night it was all I could do to stop him.”
Then they nodded,
gave each other a low five
and headed off in opposite directions.
After they left I stood a while
looking down across the tracks
at a long train of box cars sliding past.
All along the side there were messages
written in that impossible Angelic scrip they use
to communicate with angels in different towns.
After it moved on out of sight
I looked over at the alley wall.
There were more messages written there
in that same strange language.
Everybody says they’re just gang signs,
but there ain’t no gangsta
can tell you what they mean.


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