WHEN IT’S ONLY MAKE BELIEVE, MAYBE

in Poetry

Forever a cliff
to go over
always an abyss
to stare into
and somewhere someone
draws another line in the sand

Events have become evergreen
News the new recyclable

Crisis the currency of last resort
While reality bears no interest

I’m spry yet retired. I reside in the inner city of a major metropolitan area of the United States. I read politics. I watch baseball. I hum along with the tune. I June swoon, and moon the bad poem. Post here, are old and new. Opinions are my very own, except when wrong.

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