The Rip Post                                                                                              

Arenít you tired yet
Of all the lies and jabber.
Skip it, skip it, skip it.
Mishmash and pish posh.
Reminiscences of this life
Are tacked up on the board
Photos of frenzy, naming
Of enemies, clashes by
Night, gives you a fright.

Are you weary, oh
Lonesome wanderer?
Why have you come
So far from home and what
Is the name of the land
You left behind so long ago?

You wish you could return
But the path is barred by
Obstacles insurmountable
So you wait here, refugee,
By the roadside for the tide
To turn and for money to burn.

Your bold initiatives have failed,
Your co-conspirators dead or jailed.
Your last requests are mocked,
The populace is generally shocked.

The demon deities will not be
Placated, though you know they
Must be stopped. Pick up your
Belongings, or toss them aside,
Where you are going, they arenít needed
Because here comes your ride.
          ---Jack Oakes 4/11/06


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