Hairline Cracks In The Brick Outhouse.

 

Hairline Cracks In The Brick Outhouse.

There is no wall

when we emerge

from our mother's womb,
it is our gateway to life,

stretched over our heads,
like a re-membrane

that of course we don't.


Baby and toddlerhood

consist of a series of pens,
play pens, penned in beds,

and uno-penned doors.


It is the teachers

who build the walls,
using books as trowels

to cement the age old info
into every crack and

crevice of our brains.

 
Using retention devices

and detention devices

to keep us all in line.

Propping us up with

building blocks of english,

science, math, history,

and civics.

 

In huge brick structures

we become the inner walls

of society, supporting our father's,

father's, fathers, beliefs

and systems of government.

 

Even our caps with

our gowns at graduation

involve mortar boards.


We are hardened by

the facts presented
then assembled as

units to bear the

next generations woes,
and as the previous classes

who rose long before us weakens,

the weight of the world at large

falls on our shoulders.


After we graduate

we are told to "Hit the bricks! "
Then off we go, in classes

that are numbered sections

of the wall, class of 72, 89, 05.....


Every so often we reunite

and find strength in what was.
We support ourselves on the

knowledge built into us 
and care for those we form

from the clay of our souls merged.

 

Those future bricks to be.

Entire structures of society

exist from this blueprint of life.


Pink Floyd is the brick that

broke loose from faith's chinking,
and busted the window

of awareness for all.

 


Welcome to the Wall!

Please stand in an orderly fashion.

 

 

 

 

©-MFB III

 

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