Observation
It is dark
in the room
The lamp by
my desk has gone out
I am
writing, typing
In the glow
of the computer screen
Backlit by
another lamp
On the end-table
by the couch
Behind me, the
talk from the TV
Contains
shades of treason
The orange-man
has pulled
The curtain
from its rungs
He meant to
cover his naked ambitions
He revealed the
fragile
Crumbling facade
of America
Plutocracy,
we are governed by Hades
Lord of the
underworld
And his host
of kleptocrats
Thieves like
orange-rats
Scurrying
for crumbs
My cat sits
on her blue chair
She is bored
of her string
I can hear
her breathing, soft purring
She would
make short work of them
The neighbor’s
door opens
Across the
hall
Someone
exists
A car starts
in the cold, outside
A plane flies
overhead
To the
airport, landing
The city is
full of revelers
Tomorrow is
the Super Bowl
