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poem ... Apocalypse Lips

Posted by Atticus on September 30, 2004, at 10:30:27

Apocalypse Lips

Just another dawning morning
Under Orange Alert
Beneath the sword of Damocles
Here on the isle of Manhattan,
And I’m puckered up to kiss
The apocalypse’s lips
But first I’ll find out
What Paris Hilton’s
Been up to now,
And whether the Yanks
Swept the Twins
In yesterday’s double-header
Amid the down-to-the-wire
Race in the AL East division,
While phantom chrysanthemum
Mushroom cloud blossoms
Rise on white-hot stalks
Against the so fine noontime
Sunshine of blue-sky horizons.

They’re selling sugar-frosted cookies
Of the Twin Towers
Down at Ground Zero
Concession stands these days,
And with each luscious bite
You can duplicate
The obliteration of the buildings
While waving cheap souvenir
Toy plastic flags
With your other hand
In reverent stars-and-stripes
Salutes to the open graves
Formed by cement and slurry,
Abysses of the missed,
Where ghostly dying cries
Ride the swirling winds
Rising from the 70-foot pits.
And the sidewalk salesmen
Get defensive when
You question their intentions
And they whine
With wounded pride,
“Hell, a man’s gotta
Make a living.”
-- Atticus


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