Poetry

Little Now Is Different Than Was Ever

By ED BULLOCK | Published: September 20, 2011

Usually there's nothing to admire Drivers pick their noses in their cars
Racing home to nuke their T.V. dinners
To eat while watching Dancing With The Stars
Overtime the lot will work for Christmas
Sleeping at their desks at 3 a.m.
Drooling on a stack of unsigned papers
Dreaming of the summer's warming wind
Green is but the color of pollution
Billowing from pipes of different sizes
Pillowy, the clouds are fluffed and tidy
God's the maid, and he wants no surprises
Homeless people live in better homes
Rich folk only live in better houses
Take away the woodwork and the stone
Crumbs are left to scavenge by the mouses
Just this once the river stained the lenses
Of my rosy glasses for a star
In that frame of time I saw through history
Prehistoric moments stuck in tar
Flags are such a stupid waste of cotton
Or vinyl-threaded-spandex; fucking hemp
"Hey, we made a club and here's the logo.
Ours will stand erect as yours hang limp."
"Only in the Lord do I depend on."
Chants the passing van of retirees
They can't remember when the van departed
Yet tonight will receive Jesus on their knees
Humans are so ape-ish in demeanor
Slack-jawed, spilling water down their chins
Scratching at their crotches with a fury
The only actual comfort hands can lend
Little now is different than was ever