Nothing to Write

I see starving towns and big money
I see blood and false-testimony …
And if Paul Simon was President
In a world when no one repents
To a god they say does not exist
On the forgotten list
He may have nothing to write

In moments when I can only scream
For a dieing child, attached she seems
In the village called the earth
Her flesh is traded without worth
While my eyes remain chained to the flat panel
Another channel
And nothing to write

And through the iron spyglass
Shared with a view exceedingly fast
I saw an image, but in reverse
Dictating my pending verse
On a page blank and crumpled and torn
Forlorn
With a pen and nothing to write

Yet, a faultless messenger
Humbled himself before anger
And revealed a vision from the past
One which was meant to last
But he was met with fight and flight
When he had nothing left to write

And I hear of wars and rumors of more
I hear of battle lines drawn at the front door …
But if Paul Simon is President
As if he is the one sent
And if, he indeed, repairs ev’ry shattered heart and broken window
With a peace below
He will whisper, “I have nothing new to write”

Dave Douglas may be reached at carpevelo@gmail.com.