By Carl R. Hultberg
Scratch a message in the paint
Make your magic mark on life
The forbidden word, the secret truth
Silent symbol of change from the state of sorrow and
strife
Others will see that they’re not alone
Take the example and join the growing throng
Everyone finally wondering
Why it’s taken this long
No one can beat you or take you away
If they don’t who it was who had something to say…
Now it’s the network, our new phones that type
The blogs and the comments after editorial posts
Three hundred messages every one citizen real
(Except for a few kids’ pranks and GOP ghosts)
Schoolteachers taking on those classroom bullies of hate
Far away yet right in sight of the reading crowd
Bush apparatchiks and racist hatemongers
Getting slapped right down
No this isn’t the stuff of your dreams
It’s just a bit of what the magic screen has come to
mean…
Carl R. Hultberg, a former Downtowner, writes RagMag, an email blast on politics and music where this poem first appeared. His email is carl.hultberg@nyu.edu.
