Page 347
By Jack Joseph Smith
Somehow
I don't think you can feel; go to Heaven,
until the impossible is done
Know thy Earth, not at all to understand
The suffering of peace
The horror of violence
Not so much different,
itself, in God's eyes
One up,. the other is
replaced in America
Watch the way they turn,,
and yell,
against one and another
Through a window or a television,,
if you have one or the other again;
actually believe, that what is animal,
and what is human,
A drop Her's ice
is going someplace