… these days?

By J. K. McDowell.

April 2017

 

I feel the grief of lost days and trampled dreams.

Doomed wisdom is sinking the Solomon Islands.

Flat world, round world, the twisting blade is never good.

 

These are thirst stricken times when cobras beg for

Water from strangers.  Are your outstretched arms the

Cool embrace of baptism or fangs of vengeance?

 

Some confuse shell game profiteering for leadership.

Now we all wear white helmets and sift through

The bombed-out residences where truth once lived.

 

Knives stabbing the looking glass and another

Oligarch dead on the sidewalk.  We count the pieces of

Silver again, certain now we have been cheated.

 

Dark writings are my forte’ or some like to think so.

Do I want such extreme imaginings or

Terrible visons to haunt my readers? – perhaps.

 

Shards of crystal are caught in between my teeth.

Bad timing for a month that is toasting poetry.

Tell me truly James, what are you drinking these days?

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