the scurvy tunes of alonzo riley (4)

Who won’t submit,
who won’t comply
will have to take
a beating.

Until the day
the beaters all
are just
too busy singing.

    [Li Po, bright-
    eyed, guffawing
    circles elbow
    to Ezra’s rib.

    “Of grape or rice
    or cut with water,
    wine has more
    elegance
    than oxen
    on the tongue –
    though in fine
    by morning after
    those of taste
    will likely judge
    such dicings
    gone to fur.”]

    *     *     *

    “...the life,
    moving of itself,
    of that
    which is dead.”

Hath we learned
our lessons well,
masters?
    [Smiling sweetly]

Strike, brother Brutus!
Let fly that iron!
Summer’s here
and the time is ripe
again.

Full fathom five
our daddy lies
– and good riddance!
He broke our balls,
that prick,
riding us,
always riding.

Be warmed!
These are
scurvy tunes
writ in anger.
This be the news,
like it or not.
Terremotto
in palazzo.

General strike!!

One if by land,
two if by sea,
and over the ether
galloping:
all power!!

Re
claim the streets,
food not bombs,
songs not walls.
Butter
can ice it, organize
or death.

GENERAL STRIKE!!!

$tarbuck$
& nike town
gone burn down!