Mohawk in Late Sun

We strut a little 

we smoke a little

id be prolific feel.

In our swagger

we drink a little 

id -doms errant ideals.

Spite old Lady Regan's fears.

Aristocrat's cant chant 

against wartime leer.

Like leading world presidents

i be a boy in self proving war.

Everyone raised to believe 

weak equals be'n wrong

but i am. Failures links all together.

One success overshadows

all to be remembered.

Everyone in need of prayer.

Never one for peace per say-

for me. Like everyone that 

makes for vulnerable days.

Like a goodbye hand 

of self destructive waves.

I smell smoke and reek of booze

so play those keys on the piano please

lead me to the idem company.

Where we vigorous in rebellion's cliche'

of the old man's fame- we breath 

to love idiomatic embrace

to curve the pain of ocean's waves.

We esoteric in an amerce sea of change.