Well, The Political Ads Have Started In Earnest. And I'm Sooooo Tired Of The Nasty, Mud Slinging, Sniping, Avoidance Of Any Semblance Of Reality Or Responsibility

Election Year       
by Donald Revell

A jet of mere phantom
Is a brook, as the land around
Turns rocky and hollow.
Those airplane sounds
Are the drowning of bicyclists.
Leaping, a bridesmaid leaps.
You asked for my autobiography.
Imagine the greeny clicking sound
Of hummingbirds in a dry wood,
And there you’d have it. Other birds
Pour over the walls now.
I'd never suspected: every day,
Although the nation is done for,
I find new flowers.


from: A Thief of Strings, Copyright © 2007 by Donald Revell.