A Thanksgiving Prayer

A Divine Divide..

I’ve seen this Nation

With all three eyes open wide

Bitter roots, prolific fungi, varied cacti tell why

They speak of land as bouquet stretched to the sky

A lushness as described in those first letters home cry

“At long last my Queen, We have found Your Pie.”

With lust in their eyes and guy on cross as disguise

We’ve come to take, we’ve come to lie.

We’ve come to escape our own treacherous lives.

I’ve seen the look in those first settlers eyes

It’s the look of the junkie scouring dumpsters at night

Need, pure need, can drive a man insane

and sharing is one of our kindergarten games

With age we dig deeper into the mines, toxic waste in it’s wake

Seeking that which is Mine

Those who settled this Nation did so with declaration of disdain.

Books letters and notes home read much the same:

“With just a few men and supplies this land we can claim.”

One tree after another would fall, the fate of the people the same

Welcome, lost children, and come meet Christ, the capitalist one

How way we play the game:

To see ground beneath and sky above as personal resource for personal gain

Never call yourself God lest you be deemed insane,

Remember he died on a cross for you, you ingrate.

Land cleared so wagons could cross

For thousands of years this land was maintained,

Thanks given each and every day.

Ships sank with the mass of trees on their way back to Spain.

Fish that filled the Potomac no longer have a name.

Black Africans stolen from home to grow sugar cane

Men from the Far East come lay tracks for the trains

It wouldn’t be long before the whole landscape was tamed

Turned to parks the royals bought to entertain

My favorite redwood grove bears not Pomo, but the Rockefeller name

(Fry) Bread and Circus, the Roman song remains exactly the same

As the Natives died off, the settlers had their way

The years some still see as America the Great. 

A land and a people once so rich

Now reduced to living day to day.

Bank gangsters create dust bowls and we assume blame

The temperature in the Arctic went up three degrees today

Because you can’t eat a maggot filled brain.

Nothing is sacred, everything sold,

Even the Buddah comes in a plastic mold.

The truth of WORK versus work is never told

With smog filled skies and sea on the rise

Like sociopaths we believe our own lies

The most dangerous one that you are not Divine.

That you are not perfect–and absolutely so–is the greatest lie

A thousand years old

Still we remain sold 

It is the DOW, the NASDAQ, the NYSE, the ripe mold.

We give thanks today not in their name,

not the settlers nor the royals nor the storybook sage.

We give thanks for those cleaning the decay,

and those working towards more life enriching ways,

and for those at Standing Rock,

Still Screaming Their Name.

There is not a inkling of honesty between those paved driveways

Highways and byways now criss cross the great plains

So trucks full of shit can be sold Black Friday.

What we traded for strip malls and churches and jails,

Now have a tree inside on display

A small reminder of whats real and whats game.

is a trite life of strife that we lead everyday

Fighting over leftovers and doused in shame

While the men of always fly in private planes,

Surveying territory their dynasty can claim

Keeping close eye on the masses wage

It’s incredible the damage a mob of men with a belief can convey

Yet still more incredible it’s believed to this day.

In just a couple hundred years this land went from green to grey.

You can seek solace in BLM land,

But don’t get too comfy, neither man nor his cow can stay.

Should you wish to sleep sound there’s rent to pay.

The Lord of Salvation has a Name:

It’s Service, not Servitude

Of service to our fellows not a man with no face

No matter how good it feels to call his name

Truth be told he bears your name.

With this I wish you a Happy Turkey Day.

The time to give thanks is always.

As is the time to dismantle the shrine

Who now wears a toupee.

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