A rambling trail
Of dust and needles
Is all that saves me
From mommies in minivans
holding no reverence
In their squinted
Laser eyes
With Koolaid stained-children
Tossing toys on cement
Hiding in rock tombs
Protects me from men
Who shout, in brave voices
“God bless Oz!”
I can only assume
That he means
The Emerald City
Green is Green is Green
To some people