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by their plight. both men and women

are soon loaded on to the waiting bus except for

the last one, a very old man, almost skeletal,

with a tiny round head, completely bald, a

shining white dot against the late afternoon sky,

waving a cane above his head as he is

pushed shouting on to the electric lift:

“WELL, THEY ROBBED OUR ASSES

AGAIN, CLEANED US OUT, WE’RE A

BUNCH OF SUCKERS TOTTERING ON THE

EDGE OF OUR GRAVES AND WE LET THEM TAKE

OUR LAST PENNY AGAIN!

” as he speaks

he waves the cane above his head and

cracks the marvelous fat fellow

who is pushing his chair,

cracks the cane against the side of

the caretaker’s head.

it’s a mighty blow and

the attendant staggers, grabs

hard at the back of the

wheelchairas

the old man yells: “OH, JERRY,

I’M SORRY, I’M SO SORRY, WHAT CAN I

DO? WHAT

CAN I DO?”

Jerry steadies himself, he is not badly hurt.

it’s a small concussion but within an hour

he will possess a knot the size of an

apricot.

“it’s all right, Sandy, only

I’ve told you again and again, please

be careful with that damned

cane…”

Sandy is pushed on to the electric

lift, it rises and he disappears into

the bus’s dark interior.

then Jerry climbs slowly into the bus, takes

the wheel, starts up, the door closes with a hiss,

the bus begins to move to the exit,

and on the back of the vehicle

in bold white letters

on dark blue background

I see the words:

HARBOR HOME OF LOVE.

there

the centerfielder

turns

rushes back

reaches up his glove

and

snares the

ball,

we are all him for

that moment,

sucking the air

into our

gut.

as the crowd roars like

crazy

we rifle the ball back

through the

miraculous

air.

Dinosauria, we

born like this

into this

as the chalk faces smile

as Mrs. Death laughs

as the elevators break

as political landscapes dissolve

as the supermarket bag boy holds a college degree

as the oily fish spit out their oily prey

as the sun is masked

we are

born like this

into this

into these carefully mad wars

into the sight of broken factory windows of emptiness

into bars where people no longer speak to each other

into fist fights that end as shootings and knifings

born into this

into hospitals which are so expensive that it’s cheaper to die

into lawyers who charge so much it’s cheaper to plead guilty

into a country where the jails are full and the mad houses closed

into a place where the masses elevate fools into rich heroes

born into this

walking and living through this

dying because of this

muted because of this

castrated

debauched

disinherited

because of this

fooled by this

used by this

pissed on by this

made crazy and sick by this

made violent

made inhuman

by this

the heart is blackened

the fingers reach for the throat

the gun

the knife

the bomb

the fingers reach toward an unresponsive god

the fingers reach for the bottle

the pill

the powder

we are born into this sorrowful deadliness

we are born into a government 60 years in debt

that soon will be unable to even pay the interest on that debt

and the banks will burn

money will be useless

there will be open and unpunished murder in the streets

it will be guns and roving mobs

land will be useless

food will become a diminishing return

nuclear power will be taken over by the many

explosions will continually shake the earth

radiated robot men will stalk each other

the rich and the chosen will watch from space platforms

Dante’s Inferno will be made to look like a children’s playground

the sun will not be seen and it will always be night

trees will die

all vegetation will die

radiated men will eat the flesh of radiated men

the sea will be poisoned

the lakes and rivers will vanish

rain will be the new gold

the rotting bodies of men and animals will stink in the dark wind

the last few survivors will be overtaken by new and hideous diseases

and the space platforms will be destroyed by attrition

the petering out of supplies

the natural effect of general decay

and there will be