Everyone falls, now, then, or in a time to come, and everyone must rise, with their own strength, or the aid of another, but it seems to me, that everyone who stretches out one hand has a sales-pitch in the other — selling hope, or redemption, or a better mousetrap.
And I understand those people of the House of R who say — it should not be our masters — our governors — who extend the hand — if we’re brothers, let us be brothers; if we’re friends, let us be friends;
But where are our brothers, in this modern age? Where are our friends? Where are our parents?
To think of all the sad orphans in this world, crying endlessly for a parent who will never answer–
And our churches lie, and say they will answer–
And the elders of the land, sitting in the gates, shield their eyes and stop their ears, oarsmen rowing forward–
And those with ears to hear, they tie themselves to masts, and, also, do nothing.
or drop coins in a cup–
so then, the House of D, and their government relief, the heavy hand– but they too sell something —
it is not easy, charity. What is easy is nothing, is ending, is failing, is sleeping. And finding mountains without rope or ladder or (hope of better), it all falls down—
A way must be shown. Right must be found. A way– a way–