Monday, September 18, 2017


Super Volcano

I hold my hand out
and feel the heat
radiating from the Earth.
The water boils.
The pot gurgles.
The water looks mean.
The lid claps.
The people clap.
The people cheer.
It’s all very exciting.
Their faces contort —
What’s with their eyes?
Why do they look
hypnotized? Why
do they cheer death?
They’re mostly old.
Not all of them, though.
Why does name-calling
make them giddy?
Shouldn’t they know better?
Why does the promise
of violence move them
like a kiss? Have their
lives been this terrible?
Stop complaining,
snowflake, says
the guy at work.
He just bought
a gun and
5,000 bullets
“just in case.”
He’s made a list.
You are on it.
There’s room
for everyone. He
stomps his feet.
The ground rumbles
like a belly.

--Bob Pajich

No comments: