The Speaker

Gold teeth and war letters.
Rats in ribbon.
This is a repetitive nation.
It's not a surprise that
we came back to look at
the antiquities of our lives again.

Rusted in a sandbox.
Clear away sanctions.
An agreement was made,
and the speaker has a metal diaphragm.
He wishes it was made of mahogany.

The release came strained
out of lace and casual conversation.
It's an exercised plight.
I wrote this speech in short paragraphs.
Tin cans and rope
drag away with this speaker.
A bit more tension gave extra pull.

Galvanized in deep rolling tunnels.
Amplify the vibration of energy
that once carried a strong argument.

They feel like ancient words
so we give them the
brown shoe polish treatment.

Place it on a tall building.
There's recollection worth seeing,
and once you hear the speaker
emanating through what is always timeless
age did not serve a purpose.
All is fair in love and war.
Clearing the static
words heard once more
resonant to give specifics.
Listen carefully.