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 Abduction By: Noah Eaton 2/8/03 Momma slowly hangs up the phone, quivering Mushroom clouds of sulfur fill her mind Uncle Sam's evil twin cousin is knocking on my window Black storks descending to take their babies tonight... Listen, the screen door slams, Hey Son, have I got news for you! Her veins from her hand trembling, gone red to blue Those same hands she used to nurture and feed her kids These same hands will be empty now, how will she take this? Call yourself Abduction Call yourself Blasphemy Call yourself AUTODAFE Who will account for the frost heaving? While you're in your neck of the wood pretending you're breathing? Meanwhile, I'll just keep standing my ground Watching the mothers tidy pre-made beds Stirring ladles in chicken soup for the usurped soul Victims of this invisible abduction Victims of this shame... Biscuits and gravy are lying on the kitchen table The last meal she will see her son eat before he goes She swears that psalm on her china plate will remain her leitmotif But the sunlight it reflects lacks the birefringence she thought she'd keep How does it feel to have incalary days? How does it feel if you can really feel these birth pangs? So why need all of this circumscription? If you want this damn thing so bad, why don't you come and get it? Call yourself Abduction Call yourself Blasphemy Call yourself AUTODAFE Who will account for the frost heaving? While you're in your neck of the wood pretending you're breathing? Meanwhile, I'll just keep standing my ground Watching the mothers tidy pre-made beds Stirring ladles in chicken soup for the usurped soul Victims of this invisible abduction Victims of this shame... The instance I read the autoinoculation in the news today Was the second I came down with the sickness The instance I saw the thieves running through my neighborhood I found myself already behind the portcullis... But I dare not say what I think you're going to say Gerrymandling on your abridged interpretations of the agenda Ghostwriting with scholars you've never shaken hands with Playing chess with a ghost that only wants an armistice Here's Allegro to resemble the shackles of innocence Here's Adagio to assert the red vultures of pestilence Here's Andante to reveal behind the cloaks the real idiots Here's Presto to place blame on the ransoms you permit... Call yourself Abduction Call yourself The Tragedian Call yourself Gethsemane Who will account for the frost heaving? While you're in your neck of the wood pretending you're breathing? Meanwhile, I'll just keep standing my ground Watching the mothers tidy pre-made beds Stirring ladles in chicken soup for the usurped soul Victims of this invisible abduction Victims of this wicked game... |