The 5th of November

A Poem by Jeb

I meant to post this on the 5th...

I remember the fifth of November,
and all that it represents.
I remember the idea that sparked it all.
And that Guy Fawkes never repents.

I remember Subterranean Homesick Blues,
and how it struck Bill Ayers.
I see the penance he never paid
and I see how no one cares.

I remember when Salinger sparked a madman,
as a madman readied his gun.
I remember the genius that died that day,
and that his work is never done.

I remember the day that Malcom X dropped his last name.
and how it came to pass.
That two men could stand at point blank .
And pull the trigger, no questions asked.

Let’s ask our dear friend Papa Bear,
what he thinks of Mark Twain.
Let’s ask the old man Ronald Paul,
what he thinks of Charlemagne.

So in honor of Guy Fawkes night,
a tribute to our revolution days.
Yes, Thomas J. and Emma Goldman
must be rolling in their graves.
Yes it’s a sad, sad world when Joe Hill can’t speak
and Grizzly Adams shaves.
So, Viva la Revolution,
and as always, Jesus Saves.