Papa Snow poured into the main stream
hope that illegal surveillance would be abandoned
he had walked into Bro Panyin’s cauldron

tarnished his fresh FroHawk

a-head of the demons

who would take apart the cornrows of neighbor

and foe

they’re supposedly serving, you say
when did the victor care about the present life
about honoring others present
only a drink in memory of liberty

wine, water and olive oil
honey, milk and paper
some moonshine for the free spirit

lost in Bro Panyin’s cauldron

and paper
from the springs of Sochi

to someday furnish the cauldron

the hand that seeks to break necks

is to be greeted in the cauldron