How old were you
When you first saw
The cops beat the weak
And the young, and the poor
Who, as they say,
will inherit the earth
When the cops dissolve —
With the rich, who train them,
Like horses, or dogs
The common will
In common —
And Simon Rodia
Whose towers of wires
And cracked crocks and cans can
Show us the way
To pull beauty up
From garbage heaps
Build them right there in the street
And, so, free them
And the White House will be a museum
