What Would Walt Whitman Want? 3/15/07

I've heard America sing
And I've heard her scream
The anguished howls
Echoing across the decades
Now I hear the cries
Of those devoid of a voice
Suppressed in their expression
While the fortunate few
Pummel them with artificial force
Singing a song of self importance
Whose obscenity is only surpassed
By the size of their campaign fund
Whose chorus is carefully composed
To be mimicked through the red lipped mouth
Of the milky media maven

The disenfranchised masses
Who have mortgaged their voices
For the sake of slippery security
Instead seethe in silence
Until anger permeates
Every aspect of their existence
The distressing results are seen
In their reaction to their television screen
When they can laugh at a man
Being shot through the heart
While his wife and daughter
Cower in the corner
Praying for their lives
Crying for a peaceful resolution
To their ungodly situation

To express opposition
To this tiresome tide of violence
Is to stand
Like a sapling against a tsunami
You are small
And your chances are less
So you step aside
To avoid being washed away
And solemnly pray
For the restoration
Of voices and sensation