OverTheRainbow

looking up at the sky,

i can understand

why ancient people thought

the earth was flat

and the sky was a dome

our own personal snow globe

only,

we're trapped in it.

now we know

When the rivers turn to blood,

we will know

that our violence,

our unending savagery, our cruelty,

things we pass off as normal,

has gone too far.

When the rivers turn to blood,

we will know.

little lions

poking up through the sidewalk cracks

little lions

rambling along the sides of hills

little lions

puffy yellow stars shining like the sun

how the wind blows over the river

quite a curious thing, isn’t it,

the way the water rolls in time

with the wind’s hushed music

that echoes

in (prefix):

not

(not what?

not right, not here,

not true, not what?

come on,

dictionary,

be specific.)

subordinate (adjective):

placed in, 

or occupying

robin,

oh robin,

do you hear the window scream

each time your sunshine-tipped beak

tries to kill its silvery panes?

robin,

oh robin,

do you see the tiny cracks spiderwebbing,