Shaking off what we need not see,
do not heed the soundless wind
nor fear the changing seas,

Why change the current state?
it is not proper to disrupt our tradition,
to ripple the leaves,
nor blow our waters.

but the cloudless skies brings
drought
Yet, our tanned oiled bodies will fear
no sun, nor the comets that pass by
in July.

fringing tears, the syncopation of stones
drives away liquid
mud through the copper coloured cobbles
it shivers the bones beneath
skin so brown
in the white glare of this heated July.

grace no other name but yours
and your 'brothers'
fight for no right, to
cease the 'hate' you find
in people as pure as yourself

aren't you one of us?

a seven in the twelve,
irony in the middle,
an odd lot this can be
soluble,
theres no question in mind,
to pray.

so give,
a moment's silence,
oh, Lord, this sad July,
our cities of compassion,
overwhelm this bitter taste,
of sickeningly sweetened, summer breezes.

8/7/05