Eventful Afternoon
by Garrison Locke
Missile silo big and tall
I wonder where your payload falls?
Quaaludes, preludes, balls of wax
destroyed.
Alert the fishes,
Kingdom comes!
Talking to a stoplight –
asking why it’s yellow –
and only getting red…
No!
An hour passes waving slowly,
heads turn up to watch the fire
raze the sky.
The toll is taken –
one dollar per person to cross.
The pedantic reapers come and go,
inspecting the aftermath for souls.
Tags: poem
