King and Cain

Truth long gone
oh, where have you gone
take us with you
to the mountaintop

so it was
every mountain shall be made low
every path made straight
the wicked shall be scourged
and the pan hand made wise.

How we too long with
mopped brow and sad song,
wishing for the moss to dry and blow away,
long verdant beards that hang
dripping off the craggy pines.

still we sorrow.
still h. obama
must dot that name,
must punctuate himself
for propriety, for the april 4th,

sam, won't you let Hozaifa free?