In search of....
He walks in the wind and rain
Maybe he is looking for his child.
In imagination he tolds him safe
From crack-houses on the corner
He thinks he holds him safe,
But he doesn't
Even know his son's face
Was bitten so deep
By a knife and by a claw
That is a sign of ownership
By the ever-feared gang-master
His song is short and maladjusted
Heads or tail?
Destroying civilizations we can never comprehend
Something called the star of David
Followed by three wise men
Many colourful flowers are spead like a fluttering
Blanket on the beach;
All effervescence of out of reach
My mother has
many a robe to spare
In dry leaves
the wind whispers!