Silver alert; Oz is missing
The gold bugs lost their insects
As Dorothy decided
That Kansas was not what she remembered
A dusty wind is blowing
Wilder fires burn as tin men sell oil
Our lion hearts won't lift a paw
As death's possibility has us hiding under the house
Work, art, you have yet to earn your keep
Your baskets wove desire with frustration to carry our emeralds
But you still don't know what to do
After the invention of the gun
Perhaps our burning heels
Will click their plastic shine
To change the channel from our hellscape
Back to the home we cannot love
Roman Ryan 