Zelle: [email protected]

"I'm just going over Jordan
I'm just going over home"
Wayfaring Stranger 

It is not my
duty
to sing and
dance for you 

It's not my duty
to shake your
hand 

It's not my duty
to pay respect,
or pander to

Your fascistic,
unimaginative
demands

"There's no sickness, no toil, nor danger
In that bright land to which I go"
Wayfaring Stranger 

You cannot curtail, derail,
or blackmail my
muse

You cannot win
a race you
cannot see

I will not participate
in your self-irrelevant
delusion

I will not ask for your permission
to be free

"And the parched ground shall become a
pool, and the thirsty land springs of water:
in the habitation of dragons, where each lay,
shall be grass with reeds and rushes."
Isaiah 35:7

I will not sing
at your birthday

Funeral, your
party; I will not

Feign

Admiration for
the narcissist
within

I will not deign
to allow you to
abuse me

I will never play for
tips while living in
your parking lot
again 

"Beauteous fields arise before me
Where God's redeemed, their vigils keep;
I'm going there to see my Mother"
Wayfaring Stranger 

I'm not asking you
to care, or
pay 

Attention; I know you are

Blind, confined to
the coffin in your
mind: I know 

You cannot think
outside the
mask

I will not ask
you to get real—

Reality will catch you soon 

Enough; no one can

Stop
what they deny

Exists;

I will not stand
between you
and your

Destruction;
I will not 

Hand
my free will

Over
to a moralizing

Fist

"And an highway shall be there, and a way,
and it shall be called The way of holiness;
the unclean shall not pass over it; but it
shall be for those: the wayfaring men,
though fools, shall not err therein."
Isaiah 35:8

It isn't Jordan
I am crossing
over;
it's the

Border between
Heaven and the
street

I'm going back
home by way of
Mexico

To sing a silent
song, with my
feet 





7.6.26