The Bell

November 1, 2016

The Bell, they talk about The Bell
As if once struck it would ring forever.
Even Dylan sings of Chimes of Freedom.
He once told the mothers and fathers, Get out of the way.
He told them, If you can’t lend a hand.
So they all got out of the way,
Even those who could lend a hand,
And left Dylan all alone.
He said he used to care
But things have changed.

One man, one vote, they say, but with purposeful complications
Built into the blades of our electoral kitchen
To ensure we’ve sufficiently blended the fruits of our ignorance
Into something we all can stomach.

I have several times graduated the electoral college
Without honors.
One Bush, one Clinton, another Bush, then Kerry sailing downriver on his sabotaged boat.
Barack made a believer of me. My belief was precisely a belief in our limitations,
In the honor of admitting them.
In the glory of doing the best we can with what we’ve got.

This was subsequently declared unpatriotic.

I am not a member of a well-organized militia.
I have no weapons to fire.
But I hear the noise, the blasts, the bells.
And I cannot help feeling that soon I shall be

Fired.

– Greg Blake Miller