made signs and streaks
of color
in their hair,
weighed down
by an assortment of metal,
pins
and hooks,
rings,
with enormous
holes
in lips
and ears,
they appeared to be of a low
wattage
group
of souls, protesting, while
children
in cribs, in schools,
in the woods,
waited at home
or near about.
was there work being missed?
books left unread,
clothes to fold?
was there a pot left
unattended,
waiting to be stirred
on some stove?
these chants, so much like
children's
nursery rhymes.
who has the time?
where will this all go?
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