Birmingham and Batman
Your villains are caricatures, clowns—
a picture of contrasts
with the subtlety of a crowbar.
I was in that photo in Birmingham,
though I wore a different face;
the one you know was pinned
to the back of a prison cell,
a child’s craft for your consideration.
I wasn't the police; I was the dog
biting the boy,
like I’m doing right now.
Want to know what isn't funny?
Using children as a palette
to paint your pictures, red on red.
That’s the work of dreamers and heroes.
A cause requires cruelty. You get dazzled
by the light in the sky, and forget
that what’s coming to save you is a rat.
The villain poses the players; he isn't frozen
like me in this snapshot,
he wants you to remember.
Your villains are caricatures, clowns—
a picture of contrasts
with the subtlety of a crowbar.
I was in that photo in Birmingham,
though I wore a different face;
the one you know was pinned
to the back of a prison cell,
a child’s craft for your consideration.
I wasn't the police; I was the dog
biting the boy,
like I’m doing right now.
Want to know what isn't funny?
Using children as a palette
to paint your pictures, red on red.
That’s the work of dreamers and heroes.
A cause requires cruelty. You get dazzled
by the light in the sky, and forget
that what’s coming to save you is a rat.
The villain poses the players; he isn't frozen
like me in this snapshot,
he wants you to remember.
The secret of poetry is cruelty.--Jon Anderson