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Let the chains lay heavy
on shoulders of bronze
as the oil floats by.
Keep an eye on a key
and it’s hole of freedom light.
See the sphinx winking on
and prowling in the night?
And oil keeps floating by.
A pharaoh is turning in
his tomb trying to get
comfortable again.
And oil keeps floating by.
The streets fill, erupt
like a plague of frogs
while armies break it up.
They jump and croak.
And oil keeps floating by.
Will the pyramids be
overturned and spin
like tops
on the sphinx’s
litter box?
And oil keeps floating by.
Thirty years minus three
thousand.
Thirty years plus three.
A simplified answer.
What is that to thee?
And oil keeps floating by.
A religious antidote
slips like a camel
through a needles eye.
That eye of freedom
a squint with a sty.
And oil keeps floating by.
Not rest for middle earth
that land that has been
shuffled from birth.
Middle East so far from mid west.
And oil keeps floating by.
Gerald the Writer 
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