Big Dogs Fall

WE like to see them big dogs fall,

We like to see them under dogs rise.

We like to see that ripe fruit hang then spiral earth-bound to demise.

We like to watch those passing people going ‘bout their gone ‘bout ways,

Like cleric runes which count the moons

To a slow approaching Judgement Day.

We like to watch those varicose window maps,

That the cathedral steeple rains bring down,

Which in the nearby distance chime then softly echo out of town.

We hundreds, thousands, millions More!

The fast amassed,

The last deceived!

With spoiled milk

‘Pon spoiled lips

We give our thanks for all received.

WE often speak of revolution

(That long and drawn-out violence, due!)

Reciting, like scholars, wearing priest's collars,

While preaching down our avenues.

Those dogs of war we keep at bay,

(For, every dog must have his day.)

Those sleeping ones, we let them lie;

Those howling ones, we let them cry.

We like to beat those black ones blue;

(Our pagan ways have come unglued.)

We tempt and draw them like charades,

Then turn, like war,

To close the door,

‘Fore sending them along their ways.

YET still it never clearly chimes,

To those afore the leash's end:

Control those with the collars on,

And one commands control on men!

We like to chase that fleeting glimpse,

(Of Judas and Jesus praise-crazed psalms)

But what's left to do,

When once we catch,

What we've been chasing all along?

© 2007 - R. MARTIN BASSO
© 2013- Revision. Three Doves Media, LLC & Reid Martin Basso