Time for another poem for NaPo. A good poem? No. But Adam wanted me to write something with rhymes, and so I did so while watching a strange argument at Taco Bell. It should be clear from the poem what I thought of that argument (or I hope so, at least).
Here you go:
"To a Taco Bell Employee"The handiwork of a few tall men
determines the flow of the streams
upon which the nation boat sends
its shadows of little folk dreams.
The image of a scrimmage of beasts
cackling over stories in need of context
without which the watcher's eyes only feast,
wondering on whose back the Truth next
speaks its heart murmur songs
and communicates the fate of small souls
whose narratives are but empty among the throngs
of gestures; a hint of dejection lulls
where rejection molds a whiplash injection
upon the neck of the story-less employee
who is tossed away before the public perception
can broadcast the past
through distance and glass
and claim for the watcher --
whose wandering eyes a lecher --
the nature of Truth's jubilee...