While Angles were
dancing on the head
of a pin, things
went and got a little
crazy down here.
It seems there’s only
so much punching at
the air I can do,
or so much keyboard
pounding I can muster.
The World put on
some insanity pants, a fruit headdress
and started an
apocalyptic cha-cha
to the rhythm of our own muttering.
A haunting cadence of
voices, cold and muffled,
chanting some ancient gripes
in modern times, hoping
things will fix themselves.
We may have started this Fire
Mr. Billy Joel; we really may have,
been the bringers of our doom,
amidst our myopathy and self-involved
self-involvement.
So many fires,
so little rain,
so many opinions,
has so many people,
acting insane.
I’ll use this pin,
to post this message,
hoping not to disturb,
all the Angels Dancing,
to the same sad fiery beat.
No comments:
Post a Comment