Untraceable viruses,

Nationality of no importance,

All this traffic of bodies

Going every which way.

Either they corralled the ponies

Or got over it.

The Americans

Were getting sloppy.

They thought they were working

For the right people.


They were all in a loop

That made no difference to me.

Never the same two people

Requiring only as little of us

As was left to give,

You want everyone to think

You’re a woman that pisses ice,

But you’re soft, you’re sensitive,

You love, you care.

They wanted you to see it their way.

This was their major malfunction.


It infected almost everything

Unlucky enough to come in contact with it.

Sometimes a money counter got shot in the head.

Sometimes it was a gramophone

IED playing old 78s.

Nothing’s worth a life.

Every life’s a direct line

To the higher power

You think you’re like them

But you’re not.

I’m a little like them, only worse.



Spoken word version from Homage.

Copyright © 2007 by Jim Cohn.