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Say So Long To The Sun

Paul Lojeski: Sooner or later the sun is going to blow
dying sun

Say So Long To The Sun

Sooner or later the sun is going to blow
and we’re going bye-bye. Oddly, this
fact elicits no comment from crowds

at football games, rock concerts, gun shows
or religious meetings. Newscasts ignore
the doom crawling our way, instead

showing fat people dieting with vampires
and everything fifty percent off till Thursday.
Sometimes a scientist points out the super nova

facts to a small group of troublemakers who
write letters to Congress after but what can
be done about the sun imploding ? politicians

ask from big leather chairs. My Uncle John
says it’d take unprecedented cooperation
and fleets of spaceships sweeping the

galaxies looking for suitable planets to settle on.
I wonder what we’d take with us but then he says
it’ll never happen because we’re idiots.

It’s late August and I’m looking out the window
at tall trees speckled in light. I’m glad I won’t
be here that last day, the day the sun sleeps.

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The Fire This Time

In this red storm
in this land of rust
it’s always the
other’s fault
when bullets
rip young
hearts or
bombs blow
apart a child’s
wide-eyed stare.
Empire is
always justified,
always righteous
of purpose and deed.
What puzzles these
zealots of war
and rulers of
profit most,
though, is the
audacious
resistance of
their victims
who fight back
with fanatic zeal
even onto their own
sacrificial suicides.
In this red storm
in this land of rust
as blood is sown
so shall it be reaped.

Caesar Firms His Jaw

The D suits, those fake
champions of the people,
got their asses kicked again,
so now, of course, they’re

chest pounding and barking
tough at Wall Street and
the Banks, while Caesar
thunders on about taxing

the rich and free community
college and a chicken in
every pot but we all know
what a hustle politics is,

at least I do being old
and sick to death of being
had every election cycle.
So they can take their

tired act down the road
to their big houses and
fat pensions and Caesar
can hit the speechifying

jackpot like ole Bill did
because whatever we need
they sure as hell ain’t bringing.

Waiting for Light

The loneliness
we share,
the great
irony of our
condition.
We bear it
the best we
can, though
often we fail,
breaking apart
like a sea wall
overwhelmed
by thundering
waves. We
crack under
the pressure
of breathing
no matter how
hard we try not
to, huddling
at windows
on moonless
nights, holding
the dark in shaky
hands, suffering
thoughts of
a last sunrise.

Paul Lojeski