PORTRAIT OF YOUNG MORRISON UNDER COMMAND

Once this populace no longer authors
Their own songs
Outsourcing all creative spark
To a battered adolescent’s robotic dreams,
John Lennon’s soul has been desecrated.

No one could move
To even understand punk
Beyond data, no furious weight
Launched at its demise
When cops show up
Where rebellion thrived,
This was health of
The human to live free
Promptly expelled
Then scrolled over