Get Up Jonah

(I woke up thinking about Turkish drummers
It didn’t take long — I don’t know much about Turkish drummers —
But it made me think of Germany and the guy who sold me cigarettes
Who’d been in the Afghan secret police
Who made the observation
That it’s hard
To live
Somebody stands in a window
Watches the river roll
Trains rumble in the foreground
With the weight of approaching dawn
Flames from the refinery
Rise broken, red and riveting
And the high vault of heaven
Looks far away and cold
There’s howling in the factory yard
There’s pounding in my head
I’m swollen up with unshed tears
Bloated like the dead…
(Instrumental break)
Blood and ashes — time burning
On the skyline dark against the stars
A solitary horseman — waiting
Lashed to the wheel
Whipping into the storm
Get up, Jonah
It’s your time to be born