a certain way to go

they look divine
deep coats, military hair
they were spread in a line
for us to admire then
stood on their own two foot
but to you and me
they seemed strung together
like a bunch of keys
(cold, thin bodies, two-faced, big heads)
and the way they stared
such grin eyes and blank lips
they wished you were dead
(one less piece of competition)

we asked then how they felt
about the lives beyond their eyes
with great effect, like oracles
they finally replied:
we lie back and watch them burn

the things they said!
with the most exclusive words
mainly i and me
it's hard to take in
how they were in love
with a life of conformity

we asked them if they bothered
that their songs were full of lies
they stared through us like statuettes
and dummies don't reply
they lie on the backs of the rest of the world

clothes from their fathers
hair cut by barbers
cleaned by their brothers
fed by their mothers
no time for others
they're their own lovers
a feast for eyes
a famine for ears
they lie on the backs op the rest of the world
(they don't grow, they're constructed)

dick witts text by richard witts