What Comes Afterward
What’s fresh
ripe & ready?
What’s the
accountability
of a
clown
the gas
mileage of
a family
car the
wedding plans
of a
miscreant?
Why won’t
the task
force scramble
when the
flares
go up,
how many
days left
until
Labor Day,
when’s the
baby due?
There
he is
now in
his cradle,
swaddled in
prayer beads,
the King
of Tomorrow,
cute as
a leviathan
& hung
like a
horse.
His mother
is proud
his father
astonished his
siblings plotting
fratricide.
See what
makes the
world go
round how
free thought
leads to
bondage what
we do
to our
chance
for love?
Why all
these questions
in a
world locked
down in
certitude,
has there
been a
garage sale
on question
marks?
Won’t someone
stand tall
& give
answers?
Has
time run
out of
patience?
I die
a thousand
deaths each
time the
phone rings.
I forget
what love
is but
I’m beginning
to see
what comes
afterward.
