when you sing, sing for justice when you die, die for peace by: Andrew Kerr

I was born through static swirls on broken television sets. The sound builds and my voice spills out for the first time but all we hear are static swooshes and marching armies holding in the soul we once knew. Slowly, glowing dots vibrate to life. Every color imaginable color and tongue. They explode into tiny fireworks across my face and back again into their small round thoughtless forms. They do a dance deliberately and ever so disasterously singing, " We are an unsung love, a bad taste on the tongue, a crack in the skin, we are holding our merry souls in for we are a generation of unsung catch phrases". They spin faster and faster across my face and finally erupt into one continuous voice and color spinning forever around cracked praying hands. "Oh how glorious the fathers love for us, that while we where still sinners he died for us". I laugh in self pity for I know the God to which they sing and I don't love him as I ought I am slowly molding into static rot. The lights flicker around my head tiny dancing children without skin, oh baby I hold the good son in, I hold the good son in. I sing in swirling silence forgetting how beautiful my voice was and is. We sing through broken television sets, trees erupting through them into the roofs of model homes spreading their skeletal limbs cracking their bones, their skin crumbles and falls. It is nothing but the sail with which we sail upon a vacant sea. I raise my hands tendons tight to the God above. My flesh , my blood is nothing but a sprawling city with tiny people rushing towards my heart in taxis crying " quickly, quickly we must deliver our hearts to his heart", they are only trying to save my life. My skin is nothing but a sail with which I sail upon a vacant sea, but I hold you close as mountains shed their hard skin, the sound of thunder delicately gracing our ears and I hush you with a swirling kiss through static drenched lips. Will you be mine? will you be mine? cedar and pine our skin is old but in it I hold you cradling the generation unsung. SING BOYS!! SING! for JUSTICE!!! and die, die for peace and don't touch that dial.