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Sheila Nicholls
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Untitled 1
I bought six sunflowers at Sunday's farmers market
The one near Selma and Vine
Took them all home put them into a big green vase
And they were pretty I was proud they were mine
They brought fire into my house for six or so days
And soon some were droopy I thought
Hmm, time pays
But one just kept on burning
Like she was looking me in the eye
Saying fuck you bitch
I'm gonna live without the soil the sun the sky
Even though I have no roots and I'm dismembered and on display
I will burn
You'll drink my life blood til consumption is passe
I will burn for all my sisters and for my brothers too
And all the flowers long forgotten
Yeah I will burn for you
Well I just looked into her face
Seeing her triumph her struggle and our race
And I saw my comfort then
And the numbness and self pity it brings
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Oh, like that's some kind of excuse
Like I can cut myself off
Another self-indulgent illusion to hide my violence and to hide our violence
Well we all cut this flower down
Be she in yourself in a field in a sweatshop or in a small Zapatista town
Yeah we all
When will war be over
When will war be over
When will war be another cliche
Just like peace is packaged today
Oh when will war be over
Well we all cut this flower down
Yeah we all cut this flower down
Be she in yourself in a field in a sweatshop or in a small Zapatista town
Yeah we all
I just looked into her face
Seeing her triumph her struggle and our race
And I saw my comforts then
And the numbness and self pity they bring
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