The Pilgrimage, Book II: Part 3 / Phillip Neal Tippin
Bring melodies to market,
We don’t want your words.
Emotion’s able to serve You
When it rises serving You.
Embark on your plastic fast
That great and luminous laundered lent.
If we may be struck down in illness,
Why do our books escape unscathed?
If he can burn a man down,
Allowed, why does he leave
His words, dry-kilned, uncombuss’d?
I want to be swindled
By a local swindler
Who stays local
After the swindle.
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