Salvation’s Nature
The organ
grinder cranks
his handle.
He passes
his hat
held by a
monkey &
in goes
our money.
Our weak
imaginations
are shredded
in the
face of
such magic,
like a flock
of starling
sucked into a
jumbo-jet’s
engine.
The organ
grinder cranks
his handle.
He passes
his hat
held by a
monkey &
in goes
our money.
Our weak
imaginations
are shredded
in the
face of
such magic,
like a flock
of starling
sucked into a
jumbo-jet’s
engine.
Filed under poems & short jabs