the attraction / repulsion we feel for successful outlaws
demands in the end they be killed off, in the story
the ultimate means of keeping them beyond the edge

our morbid fascination
unbridled self-indulgence
a pornography
enslaving everyone else

destroying community
social bonds
abandoning the baby at birth
before we could be

in the manner of tyrants
consulting no one but the inner circle

to awaken to sirens
of approaching bombardment
and dash off into the earth
perhaps to be buried

nobody knows – or admits to knowing
whether the world’s most hunted man
is alive or buried

it’s a love/hate relationship, in the end


don’t complain about the political restraints
of Vietnam decisions
after you agreed you’d have it all cleared up
after just one more year
year after year


after so much love that poisons everything
or decades, I’ve a right to be bitter


That’s what Woodpecker said.


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