Perry L. Powell
This is finally an ending:
resolutions and forgettings on the tv
in your favorite drama.
Thunderclouds arrive like triemes
along the shores of the developed world
while cargoes of overpriced merchandise
sit idly by and junkmen pray for rain.
Who will carry this burden into your future?
Surely not these cubicle philosophers...
Time passes. The stories only
repeat what we have always envisioned.
See these regrets at dinner.
Pass the salt and shaker of complaints.
I am waiting for a soft landing
on the other side of the mountain.
If you put on your best dress— quickly now—
maybe we can both make the party.
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