“They Are Redress”

“They Are Redress”

They are redress to millions, their colours, fear and greed,
And steel gray default within an arbitrary quota,  red, white, and blue.
If there is anasthesia in the operation, it’s local and in itself a semblance of glue
That bonding in the thralls along the wall in line, the call of need,
Desperation, denial, and now and then the expedient seed
Of Cain’s considered bright ideas gained long since that fateful trade, the crude
Supposal of some slight in God’s oversight, rude
Reaction of petulance and ingratitude that feeds
Itself upon the notion that once created, “`twere no request
Of ours for breath or life,” and ërgo ours, and ours by right
To tax  its proceeds, harvested to  excess, forgeting the usury of the loan
And possibly the location of the philospher’s stone, values of a single stone,
The sacred cause, denial impossible effec while straw and stubble deficits
with which to build a pyramid–We’ll rise again; we’ll perogue the flowers
of  our youth in saturaded powers that scratch the surfaces in midnight hours.

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