. . . . The cork has popped,
the cat is out of the bag,
People are coming out of the woodwork,
coming out of the closet, some are going
out of their minds, some are fed up
with going hungry being out of luck,
out of touch, on the outside of the banquet
missing the inside scoop.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Common sense is becoming common again,
the turtle is gaining on the hare,
Popeye is eating his spinach,
David is strapping on his sandals,
Goliath is shaking in his boots,
Spartacus is breaking those chains,
the dam has already broke,
the bird is on the wing,
the ship has hoisted its sail,
the pants have been unzipped,
the People are chatting it up,
yet billionaire's are stepping down
to the cellar to check on their priceless, hoarded
bottles of wine but you don't need a sommelier
to know which way the wind blows,
to know which way the cork flies.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
You don't need a carpenter to know that People
are coming out of the woodwork.
You don't need a mothball to know that People
are coming out of the closet. You don't need
a lion tamer to know the cat is out of the bag,
and you don't need a beaver to know the dam broke,
and you sure as hell don't need a weatherman to smell
the stench on the wind blowing from the bankers' gold-
plated toilet seats, stench from the corporate bored rooms,
stench from the war corpses!
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
And you sure don't need a weatherman
to catch a whiff of the fragrant sweat emanating
from the rainbow skins of the People,
to catch a hint of the sweet smell of Autumn's
moist currents doing their invisible best to purify the air . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Let the four winds blow,
brothers and sisters,
let the four winds blow . . . . .Mankh (Walter E. Harris III) is an essayist and resident poet on Axis of Logic. In addition to his work as a writer, he is a small press publisher and Turtle Islander. You can contact him via his literary website.