Who's Who of Modern Man

WHO’S WHO OF MODERN MAN

Straw that bends leads his list of needs.

It is good for the stomping and the shaking.

It indicates rebellion by innuendo,

But promises in reality that he’ll be taken

For a member of the inner circle.

And on the words of preachment he feeds.

He grows on the rumble of the underquaking,

Yet what he gives back nobody knows.

He is caught in a crossfire of muckraking

And he only adds murk to the merkle.

The in-crowd is out, you know, the out-group has grown in.

Drafts go whispering through the willows. Do you hear a wind?

The branches bend; seem to be dropping, but the drooping ends,

And the trees are all straightening. Who needs the bends?

Vegetables are cramping the eye of brackish evening light.

Street cleaners start a sweep and find children crouched in fright.

War is war is war; the whore of gore brings more and more blight,

While some Vegetables in Bible-belts argue over abolishing night.

From the height the steeples pop, the bells of gold prove heavy.

Tinkle, tinkle, hear it crinkle, religion still proving steady,

While preachers preach of maybe a bit deeper, a bit more -- maybe!

And men of wealth are pouring out the milk for the greater rate, baby.

There he stands, as straight and tall as reeds,

With a stick of protest that he is taking

To rouse you to go where he would go.

So roll out your empty barrel to the breaking,

To the bursting, to the busting of the circle.

Destroy the money mongers for these newer greeds.

It’s time for a brand new witch-hunt and stalking,

And after the smoke and ashes in the wind blow.

Street cleaners will rake the bones from the grating

and there’ll be a new pedant of moil in the merkle.