poetry

bottom-line

the world is about to end

arabs confusing

bombs with clothes.

Meaty Americans

wallow in

acidic soda

it rusts

in their stomachs.

 

africa is strewn

with squabbling – these

black boys were once

waving wooden swords

and (shields)

now ak47s pelvic pistols

crowd their clothes

 

the Chinese don’t speak

they just work in the

factories.

they solder lives

to technology (based)

on information.

 

the British fear the sun

and the chance things

could go wrong.

contagiouscommonwealth

a steady tradition

chases them into trains

buries the religion

 

the Earth drains, people

only notice severe smokers

cow gas blasts in the

lonely ozone

 

humans want to get

laid, and-

play their game,

buy a BulgingBigMac

forget the

minutes.

 

 

 

PhilosopherPoet

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