Keep Muscling On Poem by Francie Lynch

Got some hope today.
It felt like a tingle.
In my insides somewhere.
This was familiar.
I was reminded that the world
In which I was born,
Was just as fucked as now.

Somehow, we're muscling on.

Nucleur threats,
Idealogical jets,
With nvasions, wars and debts.
I kept abreast of the U.S.S.R.
Covered heads beneath school desks,
Bent over likeVesuvians.
Korea, Viet Nam,
And on and on;
Granada, not Canada,
Look what happened in Iran.
Did you see them hang Saddam?
Sometimes I can still hear the alarms.

We still keep muscling on.