Chainsaw Certified

Chainsaw Certified

A Poem by Robert Ronnow

I'm dead. Unlike Frost and Yeats
nothing I've said will be remembered.
Unlike Roosevelt and Lincoln
nothing I'm thinking will win the war.

I'm going to go to my grave unsung
like almost everyone. These mountains
are my grave. A good grave
to go to. There's no such thing

as being saved. When you're gone
you're done. At least 60 million
people don't believe it, don't believe
in evolution. Man, that ape,

can heap a peck of hurt posthaste
with earth movers and machine guns.
Information technology
cannot save your soul, heck,

I've tried. Every morning
I total the polloi
coming to my site for wisdom.
The number's usually zero.

A good number to know.
When my heart fibrillates
I lay my head
against my sleeping wife.

Solace, comfort. She says,
Take your pill, fool.
In an hour at most
I'm feeling great again!

© 2018 Robert Ronnow


My Review

Would you like to review this Poem?
Login | Register




Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Stats

191 Views
Added on May 13, 2018
Last Updated on May 13, 2018
Tags: chain, saw, dead, frost, nothing, remember, think, win, war, go, grave, sing, mountain, save, gone, done, people, believe, evolution, man, ape, hurt, earth, gun, machine, soul, morning, wisdom, number, know, heart, head, wife, sleep

Author

Robert Ronnow
Robert Ronnow

About
www.ronnowpoetry.com more..

Writing
Quiet Quiet

A Poem by Robert Ronnow