WARTIME
The losses are unbelievable. I've lost
my watch, you've lost your wagon. The
fat guy down the block, his last letter says,
has now lost his dragon. We are all festooned
in a new oasis with bombs falling around us
and unmarked dogs parading as cops. The
future looks so dim I'm calling up Helen Keller
again. Look at that smoldering ruin: that was once
my father's apartment block - number 22B -
and he was quite proud of the pile of bricks. Now,
it too is reduced to a fractured equation symbolizing
what it once was. If Einstein's yet here, give him a nod,
tell him to solve this newest equation : how to equate
what has come to everything we used to fear. Relative
to his time and place, I'd imagine that's not such a tough
boat for him to steer. But, truly, this wartime is Hell.
No comments:
Post a Comment