Punk Rock Poem by THEO RAY

The blade-the day, a shadow, the moon's half-eatened face. Atomic mushroom cloud covered the sky, a shroud, a million faces behind barbwire. Prophetic poems burned to ash, a spike in the vein, eyes distant, like a light in a tunnel, blood moving to the brain, eyes closing to the screen, the sound of 'Rage Against The Machine', blasting loud, vaporize the city, wipe it clean. My passion unstrung, undying, the catacombs, the rust colored-red of the sun shown, drying-up the morning dew. Laughing with madness, hating everything I see, I brought a match and some gasoline, I brought famine and disease. Corporate gods bring the world to its knees, funding governments and genocides we don't see. I brought a match and some gasoline. I heard you speak of revolution and change, and saw only the rattle of ankles in chains, sweat soaked shirts instead of blood stained dirt, a long line of slaves they were......                             I brought a match and some gasoline-watch everything burn-burn-this ain't no dream,
when the riot will rage and blood run's
a stream, remember......a match
and some gasoline............