A Standard and a Drone

A standard is a standard,
and a drone is a drone.
Well, why not throw a bomb on ...
No, no!

Listen to the King of the Jungle!
He's a bastard, but he is our bastard,
and we are
too big to fail.

We are
cowards. We
play choo-choo in the jungle.

You there on the street! Is that
Latin you are reading?
I beg your pardon?
No, the 21st. It is
something new.
With new names.

Holy tradition, save us from the
deviant! To Thee we pray, Thou art our
reference. Can't there be silence
in the mountains?

Drip drop, drop drop, what is this
sensation? Is that
you? There are voices of peace
in the jungle:
Chick-a-dee-chack, chick-a-dee-chack, and:
Cocori ho! Cocori ho!
I think it means good.

Did you see that cat on
Facebook? What a laugh. And if it rains,
we'll take a cab.

Real city, your cars like petals
carried on ant paths. Your night-lights
fading, pointing to
references. Cave paintings
on the walls.

We celebrate the new millenium
with war. When the terrorists are killed
there will be
we will be
everything's gonna be
something's gotta be
something. Trust me.
A new dawn.

Can you play this Beethoven again, please. Thank you.
So elevating. So
dead. What
a relief! He would only
talk back. He was not
an easy man.

Who are all these voices? They frighten me
like ghosts. Is this seat free? I just need to
sit down for a minute. Are you American?
Yes, I thought so. You look so prepared
for your second century. Good luck!

And here is the news:
Terrorists.
Can we please drop this bomb now.
I'm gettin' bored, sorry.

Real city, the wind brings
no sound.

Anis Hamadeh
25 June 2013