The American Maze

Our fair maiden
Ours!
In a star spangled dress
She left us waiting
And dancing
Dancing her bent legs

Green men, sullen eyes
Cromwell's dog
Made you bark
In pylon skies, we met
And died
At the hands

Of blood hungry veterans
Of seduction
Yellow teeth
And chrome black suit
Hunched upon a podium

Small talk
Small speech
Enthusiastic handshakes
The form of their arms
Is twisted
Into

Horrifying new shapes
To compliment
The fevered new ideals
Of briefcase wielding maniacs
"We", they say
"Are for the people"

"Follow, children
To the pied pipers reel"
A cradle in the mountain
All civilisation lost
To some fools
Resistance

To remain at his fathers side
Like father, like fool
Old boys networking
From their wrecks
And their white palaces
And their lavish beds

The people
are the red
under these beds
Harvesting the goods
And combing
the graves

This
Is not a means
to any end
Red, blue and white feathering
Fly home
To your own damn swords