Sonnet 119
Laijon Liu 20160613
Pour it down our throats, pour!
Whether it’s sweet, sour, hot or bitter
These poor fatherless generations
Born of distress, pass down distress
Troubles unsolvable, we endure
Dreams far away, we dream on
Drag that hope, drag our drowsiness
And pray “All’s well that ends well”
Kids are fighters, nuts pursue ‘righteous’
Gun makers write our law and tragedies
We learn to aim, never the right targets
We labor good cause, benefit our foes.
The billowing sea storms untamable
So guzzle, like we are the wine god
