Great American Literature
Our book shelf groaned under the weight
of American Literature and my mother was
principally a communist.
An American Tragedy I read at fourteen,
and my fascination with A bridge over San Louis Ray
was endless, and so it went on.
I joined the youth wing of the communist party
of Norway, it lasted a month, they kicked me out
I knew too much to be useful.
The plight of the poor concern me I bristle when
seeing injustice in short I will fling my arms around
a horse that is about to be flogged yet one doesn`t
need to be a communist for this. Kindness is not
political and doesn’t carry a flag you have to pledge
allegiance to, a friendly smile will suffice.