poem, poetry, student protests, utopian

LAWN

weed out
the troublemakers.

now
the lawn

do mot let
them infiltrate
the body politic
infest our dead reality.with their
thriving little
protest village

a place that we must
segregate, isolate,
wire off, set apart

place that needs to
be an unadulterated patch
of lawn, piece of
Golf course green

cannot be that which
quietly and noisly
speaks to a new humanity
all kinds of new dispensations

set
to bring new life to
resurrect all forgotten
notions
jettisoned thoughts
twice dead big dreams