Three depressing poems to celebrate the arrival of Spring

I think the title of this post pretty much sums it up.

And so:

 

December


I sing praises of December

the Reaper—

smothering snows,

breath-stealing cold,

Waster of life and limb!

 

Calling crows announce

the death toll overnight:

That which walks a frozen land,

passed by and left its mark.


Salacious


When they put it like that

the emphasis/

the angle/

the slant/

you can sort of see what they’re saying

and know something ain’t right.

 

Leaks

rumors

unnamed sources

muddying the water

casting heedless stones.

 

A bloodless coup, flawlessly executed—

save for a shriek from the machinery,

something living caught in the works.

 

Future Present


Waking one day to discover,

tomorrow has arrived at last.

 

No time for procrastination,

the wolf is at the door.

 

Start with the weakest among you,

knowing they won’t be missed.

 

Count the seconds,

down to seconds,

mere seconds,

until it is done.



The air they breathe, the food they eat,

so many hungry mouths…

 

For the sake of your children’s children,

necessity absolves you of blame.

 

Only recall we were each complicit,

feeding and tending the flames.

 

Count the seconds,

down to seconds,

mere seconds,

until it is done.



© Copyright, 2011  Cliff Burns (All Rights Reserved)

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