Tradition

[The Four-Eyed Cat]

I

We’ve killed tradition;
sliced open its throat
Made murder a virtue
And dignity a sin
Made colors turn blind
music deaf
literature mute
and the canvas blank
My heart lost rhythm
And my speech lost rhyme
My thoughts have derailed
And my senses had dulled
for my ears refuse to hear
That we murdered tradition
 
II
 
There lays a body
A stiffened corpse
With lifeless eyes
Akin to that of a fish
Marked like cattle
A card sticking out
Under his left lobe
Labeled “Tradition”
And “Long overdue”