Whose to Blame

as a inner city baby cries, stevie wonder chants a message teletype into hot deepness, electric summer night, the bronx 73.

it was the day when martin luther king, gandhi, bobby kennedy,
lenny bruce and john lennon crossed the great divide.

ocean blue whales exhale last breath on beachfront, telekinetic suicide with brief dying symphonies of whale opera and tragedy.

me looking at whale, eye to eye, we both know the world was not guaranteed, unfair even, the padre, rabbi, mayor, and scientist don't know why.

at the planet asylum on 5th Street the doors are open as sunny, beatific and blithe loonies luxuriate in carnival fest. by george the cops don't know right from left, they are arresting trees and tables.

it is old news that the earth has been knocked out of its' orbit by seismic tumbles and cracks, we can still see the moon.

but, what has gone wrong, and whose to blame? we had it right once.

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