I returned to this country
Tired from arguing motivations through customs
Just to be greeted on the street by discards, overanxious,
With a stank whiff of aftershave
So I listened to dullards on Sundays
While they smashed categoricals and offered them
Up to the desperate in nickel bags
But you had to grab some
—Didn’t you?
Did any shopping cart go unclaimed from the church narthex while sacrifices were offered up?
Granted—
History is never pleasant
So we do our best to stay out of it
I tried to escape to the estuary
Where they wouldn’t come searching
How about you?
Were you ever tired of dribbling out revanchism for bulk mail?
I just wait for the house of cards to fall
Death on the bottom, Five of Cups at the center, The Tower on top
You line up your victims
And I line up mine
Already I’ve lost count
But I don’t think they’ll ever stop drawing on their entitlements
Andy Oram
September 2, 2024