The Parting Whistle


Would distance make loving hearts grow fonder
When anxiety takes its toll in blood
Of husbands and lovers who grow no older
Tossed like sackers spill their souls in the mud

When the roll call declares mercy none spares
The common toil simply learning alive
To embrace the land and that for all the cares
Now bolden life be given for its thrive

What things are wanderlust how we are made
Thus covet in our dreams the Sabine wives
Move the hand swapping the spear for the spade
And thrust into animal flesh with knives

Would the castled hides of George, Kaiser n' Tsar
Go to hell for raping unknown women
And then still leer, sneer and jeer far and near
Burning like ice drowning in their semen

The coercion of the moderates aside
We are tired of the sheer relentlessness
Of the doubtingness of the silly bride
When he doth wed fullness with emptiness

The common man's fodder flowing like grain 
Chattering like mad until the silos claim
Someone will book him a berth on a train
When the parting whistle hisses his name

Siena 4 7 2007