saving the next city
how many miles we traveled
far from shore I do not know
the early morning city lights
flickering atop gentle waves
skyscrapers sinking into their
self-induced holes as
madmen rush to resurrect them
the fish were striking at an incredible
pace and the captain had trouble
resetting all the downriggers
while house flies persistently bit
the whitest of legs
reminding the youngest of men
everything comes with a price
at the end of the day as the boat
drifted back to shore
there were no women or children
welcoming them back home
there were no lights
no music streaming from pipes
but the streets
the streets they were weeping
streets littered by madmen
already destroying the next city
june two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
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