By John Grey
Now
we embrace a strange world
where
our next door neighbors
still
celebrate the Spanish Inquisition
and
the King of England
has
not reported in from Mars,
the
Ku Klux Klan
are
gathering on the front lawn
of
the Vatican
and
religion is, in the words of one pundit,
going
to hell in a DeLorean.
Just
yesterday,
I saw
a man dressed as the last tree standing
and a
truck barreling down Main Street,
with
a sign on its side reading,
“down
with the word ‘accountability.’"
And a
kid claims for his ambition in life,
to
die for the sins of nefarious politicians.
Angels
are no longer happy in heaven.
The
president says, "We are moving
the
white house a few blocks south,
to be
closer to the highway on-ramp."
And
the speaker of the house declares,
"If
it's good enough for the electric chair,
then
it's good enough for me."
Who
is that crying?
Did
you have a baby without telling me?
Oh,
it's only the woman
who
lost her husband
in a
drowning incident
one
hundred and fifty years ago.
I can
live with that
even
if she can't.
About the author:
About
the author: John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident, recently published in
New World Writing, North Dakota Quarterly and Lost Pilots. Latest books,
“Between Two Fires”, “Covert” and “Memory Outside the Head” are available
through Amazon. Work upcoming in California Quarterly, Seventh Quarry, La Presa
and Doubly Mad.
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