The Flag - Botanica

Up the block

From my corner

Past the mourners

And the wings

Four roses

And all those party things

I see the tombs and crowbars raised

I see the passion plays replayed

Through the park

East projects past

Under train tracks

Elderberry lots

Mullberry plots

And pools of blackest light

I see the robes of faith and healing

I see the spirits uncorked and reeling

I see the rules of troubled dealing

And you tell me, I got a right?

Got a right to hold a gun

Got a right to lose my son

But when I stand and face the flag

I see my country wrapped in rags

And west

Up gentle cliffs

Where fathers sip

And mothers trip

Up harsh inclines

Six babies at their hips

I see the playground games gone wrong

I se the imitation bombs

I see the army of the damned and hear their songs

And you tell me, I got a right?

Right and wrong--no inbetween

Turn the other cheek to what I’ve killed

But when I stand and face the flag

I see my country wrapped in rags