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The Literary Groong - 12/17/2005

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	NO MAN, NO SEASON

	By Bedros Afeyan


	Collectively we stand
	Or think we do.
	Collectively we hope
	Declare the sword
	Inferior to the pen
	Or ink or feather.

	High in reason, sure of measure
	We serve our lord 
	Sweetened self interest 
	Illusion of duped masses
	Making their gains into our profit.

	Sloganeers, marketers, steeped in musk
	We regurgitate faithlessness
	As conviction, Markovian prediction
	Of endless struggle
	For good old liberty
	And apple pie freedom
	As billions die slowly.

	For no man is left for any season
	No man within the confines of reason
	Allowed to speak of compound injustices
	Streaming forward to touch infinity
	And declare their treason, a national treasure.

	8-13-05
	Pleasanton, CA


--
Dr. Bedros Afeyan is a theoretical physicist who works and lives in
the Bay area with his wife, Marine. He writes in Armenian and in
English and also paints and sculpts. Samples of his work can be found
on the web by clicking on his personal web pages at:
http://208.177.152.139/

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