Four Short Poems: The More Lethal Disease
The More Lethal Disease
Ebola has killed thousands.
From Vietnam on, the U.S.
murdered more that two
and a half million human
beings. There might be
a cure for one of these
plagues but the other one
apparently can’t be stopped.
ass kissing
is an art form
learned at an
early age
but perfected
on the job
practiced
and performed
with great
skill and
technique
everyday
the phony
smile of fear
readily offered
to the supervisor
the submissive
affectation of
the prisoner
worn all day
long scurrying
bowing
and scraping
about
jumping at
the slightest
command
grown men
and women
but frightened
rabbits
on the run
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rush hour
wild rain
Long
Island
waves
of wind
frenzied
black
sky
roads
packed
the living
dead
driving
furiously
in the roar
of defeat
34 million dollars
paid for three
bedrooms on
the Upper
Westside
where I once
lived for $300
a month, while
Lou Reed
laid it down
and anything
was still
possible.
before
billionaires
infested
the avenues
with bloated
self-indulgences
and corrupt
explanations,
before reasonable
expectations
left town
for good
and politics
became a surreal
fist in this bloody
Si-Fi flick
called America.
Paul Lojeski
