when north became south
you lost me when I wasn’t looking
like a silver dollar vanishing
via sleight of hand
when the poles switched
nearly everyone became displaced
like foreigners held
hostage inside their own homes
those less fortunate were
forced to learn a new language
whether it be spoken or not
in the city center they hung
disobedient juveniles
upside down by the ankles
shaking the contents from their britches
making all the little ones appear out of nowhere
like cockroaches scrambling on all six
march two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
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