We Will See If Things Get Any Worse
My Father whispered in my ear
A few words I must be tellin
If I were a town crier
At the top of my lungs I would be yellin
He tells me that there is a curse
He has vexed upon your lands
And it will just keep a gettin worse
With the further merriment of ya’lls bands
So what else can I say unto ya’ll
Go ahead and read the good book of Joel
For if ya’ll think that Oklahoma was bad
Ya’ll have not yet seen a real dust bowl
You have my signet as a sign
For it was given to ya’ll as proof
Maybe one day sooner or later
Ye may realize I’m a Holy goof
The curse will not be lifted
Until ya’ll meet some certain terms
For as far as My Father is concerned
Ya’ll are nothing more than worms
So go ahead and keep on sinning
We will see if things get any worse
For there are still many of ya’ll
Who do not believe there is a curse
Edwin Tanguma © 5/27/2014
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
a reflectionary poem