The thread is now barren, too soon,
waving over the arid ground,
it splits again
and the cotton bleeds with the fallen lists of yon
giant horned butterflies swoop in with their drums
thrum-thrum-thrum, thrum-a-tum-tum
and the pageant fills the air in every city and the sky groans
thrum-thrum-thrum, thrum-a-tum-tum
the solemn horde stand in their mumble-stumble anthem
thrum-thrum-thrum, thrum-a-tum-tum
handkerchiefs are made handy for eyes dropping bombs in the dust
thrum-thrum-thrum, thrum-a-tum-tum
the holy alliance with the soil spilled long ago grows heavier still
thrum-thrum-thrum, thrum-a-tum-tum
soulless worms made of oil inch along in macabre silence
thrum-thrum-thrum, thrum-a-tum-tum
well dressed children stoop in slack-jawed bewilderment
thrum-thrum-thrum, thrum-a-tum-tum
a little boy is told to stop giggling this instant
thrum-thrum-thrum, thrum-a-tum-tum
the young lad won’t see that his laughter is out of order
thrum-thrum-thrum, thrum-a-tum-tum
and he notices all the solemn faces and bleeding cottons
thrum-thrum-thrum, thrum-a-tum-tum
and the giant horned butterflies beating their drums
thrum-thrum-thrum, thrum-a-tum-tum
the loudly torn anthem now stumbles to its horrid close
thrum-thrum-thrum, thrum-a-tum-tum
and the butterflies lift their drums high into the moist air
thrum-thrum-thrum, thrum-a-tum-tum
the sky tumbles down with a tyrant’s ferocity
thrum! thrum! thrum! thrum-a-tum-tum!
the pageantry is quickly called on account of rain
thrum! thrum! thrum! thrum-a-tum-tum!
and the little boy cries as the giant horned butterflies come crashing
THRUM! THRUM! THRUM! THRUM! THRUM!
© 2007 mrp/thepoetryman
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