fairly tales did come true

there is no end
to fairly tales
the riff and redaction
of all that ails

round and round
these bushes of berry
all that’s not lost
is the will to make merry

there are trumpets
and angels and
bound piccolos
there are flutes
and violas and
sound buffalo

in the herds
on the plains
only joy within sight
bring lost potions–convictions
not always so bright

yet a day is a day
and time ever the cheat
no throne opens for US
no impervious seat

all is well
all is good
fairly tails have their play
into onward and upward
hills of mountainous clay

where patty cake patty cake
claps many hands
yet the broken are strewn
over far, distant lands

i could wail!
i could mourn
i could count penny’s pride
in the free i was born
with the free i will die

yet these days to remember
are not dressed well in fear
they are dressed in the fairly tales
offered with tears

sound the trumpets!
marshal devils
all is one and the same
all we hope for is one future
among many that pain

i could find better answers
but the oldest ones burn
with a light never dimmed
from these tables that turned

all is well!
all is happy!
do you doubt where i cry?
for these splinters and logs
pressed to vulnerable eyes?

no there is no better recourse
to disdain overseas
than to wave one more flag
shout, “this is the land of the free!”

what that means
is we also stand free to admit
no perfect people are sane
no sane rulers are fit

what that means
is we’re free with no party
no guide
we don’t stand within them
for they stand by our side

see: the Normans were left
with their Normal wide rule
all that came here bereft
of all hope and all fools

i once held every fairly tale
close to my dreams
now i hold only questions
for where fairly tales lead

and i stand on one land
one great world that has grown
to be so much more
than just places called home

there are trumpets
and angels and
bound piccolos
there are flutes
and violas and
sound buffalo

there are words soaked in conflict
bought by pennies with pride
where all joys bake horizons
and all clay births reside

sound the trumpets!
marshal devils
all is one and the same
all we hope for is one future
among many that pain

i have found many things
lost in travels with hopes
but for now–yes, let’s sing!
and let other worlds boast

for now, let us bring
fairly tales to their close

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