When I grow up I
wanna be bear hugs
and hundred watt smiles
for family, comrades and friends—
Easy to figure
out: come correct—
Or, not at all
When I grow up I
wanna be like the
keystone state son of
a Fighting Miner,
in major—music theory—
teaching poly-rhythmic
Resistance, asking:
“How do you keep the music playing,
How do you make it last?”
When I grow up I
wanna be like the
Quaker State son of
a Fighting Miner,
in major—allowing
Resistance and the
Organizer in
my DNA to
Lead the way…
When I grow up I
wanna be like the
Warrior jousting
windmills in front of
the War House, Picketing
for the Love of his
Life—rain, sleet, or snow—
Or sauna; showing,
Not telling, the rulers,
“Let my Peoples’ Lawyer go!”
Ain’t that lovin’ you, baby?
When I grow up I
wanna be like the cat
not above crashing
in airports, to
Visit his Valentine
shackled to the 17th century,
deep in the heart of
a Texas torture chamber
When I grow up I
wanna be a spirit
singing,“Lonely teardrops,
My pillow’s never dry…
Lonely teardrops, come
Ho-oh-oh-oh-Om…”
When I grow up I
wanna be like the knight,
who in his eye’s glint,
Her name’s writ in flames…
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