Salt and iron infuse this dreadful soil. None responsible will ever visit This snow-covered land recently aboil. Seek reasons like avarice, crude oil, Or yours is mine and tat is tit. Salt and iron infuse this dreadful soil. Choose your side, do nothing but see the coil- Death is details; nothing explicit In this snow-covered land recently aboil. Become nothing more than the gargoyle Overseeing the survivors’ deficit. Salt and iron infuse this dreadful soil. Subdued by madmen who would embroil Us in schemes to their benefit And set this snow-covered land recently aboil. Plead vain ignorance and make children toil While we watch and debate and, on our asses, sit. Salt and iron infuse this dreadful soil, This snow-covered land recently aboil.
Category Archives: Poetry
On An Other Birthday
Notable those years of expectation.
Ten, twenty, thirty years; I could go on…
They arrive with hope and with elation.
Feathered, bearing balloons, excitation
And yet it was evanescent, foregone.
Notable those years of expectation.
Was the wait all merely connotation?
This and that and the other and so on?
They arrived with hope and with elation.
Round, whole and soft, years of digitation-
What of when twenty eight or six are done?
Notable those years of expectation.
They leave with little felicitation,
Less important, little remarked upon.
They arrived with hope and with elation.
Fifty eight is no less a citation
Of what could be and what is gone…
Notable those years of expectation.
Now arrives with hope and with elation.