A 21 gun salute is what’s Needed – after that I don’t give a damn. The Nobel Prize Went up in steam. The U.N. came Of age and declared All of us Savages... redundant.
O! tell what must become Of the animals: We’ve monopolised Their place. I awoke, Loving the future Furiously; My niche dug (an affirmation) I’d be there Twinkling as The 21st Pearl-handed bullet Within The sun-kissed Upper everglades.
She has been inside that phone-box An hour or more, dripping red Upon the receiver, sirening loss. It must be bad news, her own. I haven’t read it In the papers And bill-boards bleed ‘Nothing’s New’.
She wipes her eyes on An apron. Forehead Transferring To glass.
... What news / her news, That turns old women Into sieves?
It is only a mad bull bellowing at the city gate. As consistent as sin the visitation has doubled the tourist trade.
What to make of it – this mad bull! Why does he choose The City Gate?
Perhaps it’s a forewarning of bastardry to come, or a lament of those past... The hair stands up along my spine.
Deafeningly his hooves thump out the rhythm Yes! No! Yes! No!
Bio: Stefanie Bennett ex-blues singer-musician & novelist has published several books of poetry & worked with Arts Action For Peace. Of mixed ancestry... [Italian/Irish/Paugussett-Shawnee] she was born in Queensland, Australia. Stefanie’s latest poetry title ‘The Vanishing’ is available from Amazon & Walleah Press.