come check the view
I watch from a distance as they run a farm*producing only what they want*not what they need*and what they could give to the poor*they douse with gas and set to fire*from the vantage point from which I stare*I know I rest too high in the air*in fear of conversion or being seen*I set rest well below the surface*going down checking at every incriment of ten*only to find it all shrinks*like the courage of a losing team by ten*in a race for the best of the series to seven*we're tied at three and what lies next* has been lodged so deep within*it drives what before drove to the point of end*for now I glance up to the vantage point*that was once so well hidden*as i sew in the seads*that will be reaped*as a fertile*yet*wasteful nation.