Postcards from Buster

Think-piece Poem

Buster & The Browns (I do not own this image)

Postcards from Buster,

not lacking in luster;

we lick stomping boots,

churn Change slowly like butter.

By marching along

to the toll of the gong,

we remind Us and They

walls and giants do fall.

Boo Radley shudders,

runs, hides behind shutters,

as Black band of bandits

emerges from gutters.

The nerve of these Others!

Pitch perfect song-sluggers;

these actors who master

roles Father and Mother!

How they creep undercov-Oh!

The strength they must muster

in movement, like motor,

still stealthy like rudder…

Bomb shelter! Bunker!

“Cash over Clunkers”

Damn, all these schm*cks

Jam up progress like Smucker’s

Say to harmony-husher:

“Turn pages, my brother.

Night ready or not,

my sun’s rays shall recover,

and rage like no other,

and burn tired rubber

stamps and replace

feather-lightweights with thunder,”

If self-soilers sputter

or down-keepers mutter;

sun-slappers try felling

firm Fir tree for lumber

Review book of matthew,

the nineteenth in number:

One joined with God’s glue

Let no klan tear asunder.

Divinely upheld

People rooted in culture -

Pain in the back

of Saltine cracker lovers.

Madonna in Malawi, Source: The New Yorker