Every city has a wall.
Of the balance of the President of the United States.
The builder is the Mayor of that City today
that throws up the iron bars of the Stone Ages today.
To contain the wall within the peopled
is the Preacher today.
This is the balance of the wall of the scale of the level today.
This works from coast to coast,
to build the sacred wall
beyond the eyes to see the sun today
Of the clouds of the cold mist to sit
within our bodies today.
I seem to keep my feet warm
because of the shoes that i wear today ;
my legs seem pretty warm of the slacks that I have on
to keep myself neat within the city today.
With the heavy coat that I wear, of the wool that was
taken from that grizzly bear.
My neck seems to stay warm
of the scarf that I wear, but
then there is a cold that sits within me
of a shout that shouts out to keep me warm.
Is that my soul that calls out toward me,
as my hands feel the chill within me ?
I place my hand upon my face, and I can feel the
cold of the ice running toward my face,
and my eyes turn with water, but within fire
as I look upon the others ones who do not
have what I have to keep me warm today.
But here they are, saying Merry Christmas to me,
a person who has it all to be ;
as I see them shiver within the cold wind that I see.
*
Poem by Ricky Teague, from To Feel Within the Water, San Francisco, 1998.
Graph by Banksi.