Alphabet City

I woke up this morning and
it was 2018 all over again!

Chagall 20??

We’ll be fighting in the streets
With our children at our feet
And the morals that they worship will be gone
And the men who spurred us on
Sit in judgment of all wrong
They decide and the shotgun sings the song

I’ll tip my hat to the new constitution
Take a bow for the new revolution
Smile and grin at the change all around
Pick up my guitar and play
Just like yesterday
Then I’ll get on my knees and pray
We don’t get fooled again

The change, it had to come
We knew it all along
We were liberated from the fold, that’s all
And the world looks just the same
And history ain’t changed
‘Cause the banners, they are flown in the next war

I’ll tip my hat to the new constitution
Take a bow for the new revolution
Smile and grin at the change all around
Pick up my guitar and play
Just like yesterday
Then I’ll get on my knees and pray
We don’t get fooled again
No, no

I’ll move myself and my family aside
If we happen to be left half alive
I’ll get all my papers and smile at the sky
Though I know that the hypnotized never lie
Do ya?

There’s nothing in the streets
Looks any different to me
And the slogans are replaced, by-the-bye
And the parting on the left
Are now parting on the right
And the beards have all grown longer overnight

I’ll tip my hat to the new constitution
Take a bow for the new revolution
Smile and grin at the change all around
Pick up my guitar and play
Just like yesterday
Then I’ll get on my knees and pray
We don’t get fooled again
Don’t get fooled again
No, no

Yeah!

Meet the new boss
Same as the old boss

Writer/s: PETER TOWNSHEND
Publisher: EMI Music Publishing, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Spirit Music Group

There is no such thing as
an independent investigation
so let’s stop calling for them
as if they’re a silver bullet.

Garlic and a crucifix
is all you need.

Chagall 2018

R.I.P. my ass –
hand me my trumpet!

Chagall 2018

My stylist stands behind my chair
talking to me in the mirror
where we hold our gaze steadfast
there in the silver backing

When I turn to face her
I can see she’s more perfect

Behind me
in the image
she averts her eyes
quite shyly

Chagall 2018

My dad cracked walnuts
between his nose and upper lip.

He said he learned how
as a U.S. Marine.

Chagall 2018

I want you to succeed, but despite your shortcomings,
not because of them.

Chagall 2018

I poke through
the seam around the edge
I’m expelled
as a tear from a wink

I roll down the cheek
of beautiful existence
she licks the top of her lip
where I come to rest
if I do

I am
viscous
as mercury
silver against black
creation in stars atop night

I am happy to be day
if only she would be twilight

My lives sprinkle from my palm
diamonds alight on jeweler’s silk

She chooses her favorite outcomes
set in tricolor braids of gold

If I’m diverted
as a tear
I will miss her lips
and instead disappear
in mid-air

© Chagall 2013

See the particles that
comprise the light

In mid-air dance, aqueous
captured blue on the journey

As if underwater
buoyant and bouncing

Balloons on the rise

Untethered and headless
this universe of mine
is bespoke

I am the catalyst, provocateur
holding sway over this and distant
fallen orbs

Yet to succumb to the ennui of eons,
patient in the succession of aftermaths

I have outlived all
that I’ve loved

Chagall 2018

My heart once was open
a drafty emptied room

Sun aslant
on faded walls
venetian blinds
parted and stuck
bent by peering eyes

I look out
over beachfront
abandoned
atop the dune
beyond the reach
of riptide

Swirls of mist
amass and conspire
to engulf me

There at the edge
of a rising sea
out on a ledge
staring down

© Chagall, 2013/2018 revised