Lotus Gait

[Chris Hannah] I have this recurring nightmare Flailing pigeon, broken feet Frozen solid to the freezing pavement I turn away as if I do not see I have this childhood memory Of my old man screaming from the driver's seat To turn away from an unfolding horror But he could not undo what I had seen We never spoke of it again Two more hapless citizens of The new post-traumatic stress worldwide disorder A Stockholm syndrome fifth estate Desperate to batten down the mounting horror And shuffle on in a global lotus gait Content to marinate In the plasma glow of the Home entertainment prisons we Commune before like dime-store shrines Are these but votive lives? It’s a strangled, twisted truss That shores-up each of us So anything to dull the pain Of a splintered lotus gait As for me a filigree of psychic police tape Tends to cordon-off off the darker scenes But the wandering mind stumbles through it And relives them all eventually Pries open wide your eyes Shines a painful light On the guilt, the fear, the shame The courage never came From the plasma glow of the Home entertainment prisons we Cling to like dime-store shrines Are these but votive lives? Conservative at heart A conformist from the start A Stockholm syndrome fifth estate A staggering lotus gait It’s a strangled, twisted truss That shores-up each of us So anything to dull the pain Of a self-inflicted, crippling lotus gait