Ad Urbi et Orbi
The city lights
wipe out the polestar, fade out
all the ancient gods excepting Venus
and Latona’s twins.
On Main Street
the usual apocalypse
fuels both boom box
and Salvation Army band.
The brewpub on the corner
offers another answer.
(What’s the question?)
A man with a laptop sips a foamy
cappuccino
CNN’s silent kabuki lights up the
laundromat.
Everywhere the smell of gasoline
the constant mechanical roar.
Pigeons coo on a cornice, watched by
feral cats.
Pigweed grows in the gutters.
For the child swaddled tight in her
carseat
it is all it is all as it is.
--Patrick Mizelle
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