AND
by Paul Perry
and death hovers upon us
like the moon at night.
and crickets cry out the day’s discontent.
and it’s generosity running out of time
and fate spitting fire onto your back.
and it’s hate standing alone
like a victorious soldier .
and it’s innocent children scattering for shelter
while the crossfire drills their heads like hail.
and it’s the genies wish of a frustrated dream
which comes true and reveals and unforgettable fear.
and it’s taunting days crawling about you like slugs.
and agony waiting for its next invitation.
so forget the blood coming from your dog’s ass
and the cats claws like daggers in the night.
so forget the morbid society living to the beat of a funeral march
and the cities blanketed death.
and it’s beer in plastic cups and pot in a pipe
and it’s looking for a toilet before you pee yourself.
and it’s monkey spots and bird droppings in your shorts.
while your women wonders what’s on your mind.
sit back and let the room do its spinning.
