A Novel Concept

a walk was what I stalked today
talking about truth and believing what I say
the green light came far far too late
and crash! I was down on my luck, wet and sprayed

anointed with a word so infallible there's bricks
piles and styles of shticks as far as the lie can see
ready to take you under their silken wings
ready to absolve you of honest open things

like a bastard of means
studies in between the seams
everyone seems to team
around continuity and dreams

gleaming clouds in the mind of the lie
a mother a father a family's hired spy
there to pry open and try
to reach eluded truth diluted by the cry
of why and I, I, I
us, us, it's all about us
this fuss
we must
we must decrease your just

the mom and pop shop has never been swept
but it's clean as a whistle
because the truth is a novel concept
under the rugs of a siren and dog whistle
silently screaming what she can't sing
and shrinking her scope despite the pain

she got so cold in her shivery lil sweatshirt
that the static electricity told her to lie
yes to lie on a bed of nails as her coffin
lie to her head of hells every so often
but one bent slightly and boldly shined an alert

because the truth speaks louder
louder than the hurt
louder than the hurt
and freer than the lie
no matter how hard you try
no matter how hard they pry
pry with their naked eye
saying why and I and crying their good-bye

raise a fist in truth
truth is what we seek
truth not tongue and cheek
for sugar coats are for the meek
to inherit as they sweep
across this planet's bones
across this hamlet's tomes
and across you and me

they will not win
we will not obey
truth is tantamount
to now and today
mom and pop can die in that shop
under their rugs
under the hay
like the discarded carcasses
they so professed every Sunday

her special hat, his special tie
our special somber half acceptance of that lie
smashed down on the ground before our feet now
as we
fly