Wednesday, March 7, 2012

poem of the day 03.07.12


the drumbeats of war
the caterwaul coming from
the inept and starched houses of washington

again and again and again

and the fruit vendor
apologizes for the cost of his apples going up

premium, he tells me
we buy premium apples now
used to be ninety-nine cents a pound
but now a dollar thirty

i don’t care, i tell him
it’s like passing oil through
the strait of hormuz

i have no real choice in the matter

an apple a day…..

but you notice the difference, he says
wrapping them up in wasted plastic

not really
but i smile and nod anyway

premium, he tells me again
handing me my bag

premium, i say back to him
shaking my little sack of gold

had to raise costs, he admits, waving

because, in the end, the fruit vendor
is way more honest
than any chamber of congress

and maybe we should throw him up there
with the rest of the fools
come any gray and gloomy november.


Matt D said...

You are only jealous because you don't have a printing press in your basement! ;)

It's a neat poem.

John Grochalski said...

i live in an apartment...i'm jealous of people who have basements :)