Fancy Asian Prayer

Composed near Varna, July 2009 (for M.P.)

Then the poor are fed with honey cream, & a time for war profiteers,
And escape from our system,
Six feet above a five-foot cloth, up to our ears in reindeer tears,
Up past our craniums in enriched uranium,
Way down past crystal Istanbul,
Down beyond the Jewish doughnut museum,
I found you chewing your cud & I found you dead as Antietam.

Then the poor are fed with honey cream, mixed with Chartreuse,
And more simple syrup.
Tell me, Mr Nixon, why don't we surrender before we lose?
Tell me, Mr Clinton, we know you're a sucker for toilet humor:
We know you're gay as a rancher's stirrup,
Away & forgotten, a dumpster rumor,
Or a freegan minstrel, then the poor are removed like the galaxy's tumor.

Then the poor are fed with honey cream, I'm just staring across
At the cross cleaving her buns, I can sit by the river & drink cappuccino & look lost:
Men patriotically stand up & sing the Greenlandic National Anthem:
"The way of matured civilizations
"It is our zealous goal to bring home."
I'll stay seated & drink slower & look like a lost phantom.

Then the poor are fed with honey cream, monstrously & atrociously silly,
Monstrously misinformed & dead wrong,
I'm just staring across at the pain in her belly,
At the lindens at daybreak & the wise men grown wiser,
Ask to shake a nation long,
Naughtily molested by a fossil incisor,
Ask politely to shake the dust of your flying carpet, ask her nicer.

Then the poor are fed with honey cream, stand up & sing,
The yellow wing will pay one day,
Ruminating past the farthest reach, orphans in the arms of the yellow wing,
Write down your history my friends, point with feeling & gesticulate,
And nothing will be okay,
You wait for the library's circular heriditate,
Learn the names on the gravestones, & be expelled & rusticated before it's too late.