The city lies in a disquiet slumber
Jolted out of sleep
By shattering gunshots
At a nearby distance.
The morning hangover
Intensifies to a seizure
With tasteless tea and
Petrifying newspapers.
At the mall a little girl
With fluorescent eyes
Grasping mommy’s little finger
With a chocolate-cream hand
Is little no more.
And across green fields rushing past
Trains chugging in a
Daily monotonous harmony
Are dissembled in a second by a bored adult child
Seeking thriftless gains.
Life is wondrous
With surprises and starts
Man assuming gigantic proportions
To create, and to destroy.
Besides being personally delighted that I’ve encountered a poet who as it were seems to be mining the same material,in a general sense,and that is always pleasing;the (with tongue firmly in cheek,ok) observation is, hasn’t Roger Waters noticed someone hacking into his wrting files?
I really like that, Louis! So other than being a professor and a poet, I am into more serious and technical work now! Elated knowing my poem reminds you of the greatest songwriter of our time! I take that as a huge compliment!