We fought for them long and hard
Down the ages of dictatorships and empires;
Beneath the heels of kings and claws of strutting
Vultures, buried them in woods
And damp cementaries, and in the hidden
Retreats of fearful minds
Rescued them from the official censor’s cutting
So that we might hear the music of mankind
Ringing in the universal ear.

The politicians and the eminences chatter
 About the nature of our dreams
Regurgitate our trivialities of heart
In tones oft plangent and betimes obscene
The known morphology and syntax digitized upon a screen
The dictionary of every soul’s material intent
Delivering to Herod our freedom on a platter
A single, monumental ode excreting
Blood in rivers of vapid patter
False promises and the sound of sheep bleating.

Here stands the pretty pantheon of high ambition,
Principles deviant about the mean
Meanings drowning meanings beneath the stream
Of sound and sounding, die
As they live - midst mirages of themselves.
Everything they say, as if by right, but nothing signify.