American Zombie

They dug my hole
in the Siberian ground
but my lifeless body,
it still gets around:
out in the fields,
haunting the town.

I'm the liberty
they used to Revere,
boiled in the tea
they no longer feared.

I'm like Caligula
starry eyed and dosed on blood,
singing 'the blues'
at The Hilton Inn...

while the pharasite on T.V.
talks of Jesus and sin,
as the symphony touches
the soft war drum...

"gas! gas!
quick boys..."
resuscitates the poet
summoning Wagner's "Valkyries"
from the Ragnarokian ruins
of imperial German culture

Napalm falls like
the conductor's sword...
a lady faints
and we rush her air:
morphine!, adevan!, snuff?

the devil's orchestra
starts another aria,
and we look around:
nobody cares