Reality CheckA Poem by Tim M
Burl Jenkins stood tall and proud in his tattered old robe, at the utmost pinnacle of the wobbling living room recliner,
exclaiming: “Are we Born Spitting hate and malice and dread? Were the first fresh feelers of exploration aimed at conquest and domination? Is there more to the exchange of So many atoms Than the simple acts of devastation? Do we pour our hopes and dreams into more than patriotic themes That blast full volume On stilted plateaus, Whose faces are so shallow as to show only The sad dapper bunch That sits behind the precipice pushing another fault line Right down your throat?” His wife, watching from the doorway to the kitchen, responded to him with the weathered patience and steadfast fortitude as only a spouse can to save face: “I don’t know Burl, But dinner’s getting cold and you’re about to snap off the armrest.” © 2010 Tim MReviews
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2 Reviews Added on June 4, 2010 Last Updated on June 4, 2010 |