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疲れた Sep 2013
My councillor once told me
that living was just like walking
we learn to walk through life and sometimes
we accidentally knock into things

and some of us,
we might learn to avoid knocking into things
or grow stronger so we break whatever we knock
but some of us might continue tripping on rocks
and after knocking things,
over and over and over again,
we get tired of falling and scraping ourselves
and we find that we soon fall into despair

and maybe one day, some of us will learn
to break our obstacles or avoid them
but some of us?
they never get up.
some metaphorically, some literally.
Bogle Oct 2013
As long as it doesn't hurt,
I want you to imagine watching me being torn apart,
by powerful galloping stallions in a crowd full of naive people.
   As I'm torn,
my deepest darkest secrets that only you know,
come pouring out.
   You have become protective of these secrets because you have helped keep them for so long.
so you can feel my pain as the incidence unfolds before your eyes,
there is nothing you can do but watch and feel.
   This is why I burnout and freakout,
every time I hear the word councillor or support,
it's like someone taking your job and getting respect for not knowing it like you did.
judy smith May 2015
An upcoming fashion show, and I don’t mean to be unkind here, is lacking in both. It’s just the way it is. These models are beautifully ordinary people, your neighbours, and their designs are self-crafted, each suiting the model’s personal interpretation of high fashion. It’s the social event of the season. Everyone in the “know” will be there.

Eight models and an emcee will take to the Capitol Theatre stage in Oxford Thursday at 7 p.m. for the third annual Foolish Fashion Show. Foolish is the operative word here. It’s an evening of fun, with each model parading across the stage in four outfits during the show. The fashions are indescribable literally. You have to see them to appreciate them.

The show is the annual fundraiser for the Oxford/Pugwash Unit of the Canadian Cancer Society. To date the show has raised about $5,000 for the society’s Lodge That Gives in Halifax.

The show was the idea of the local unit’s Bev Clark.

“At the time there were no people to canvas door-to-door,” she said. “People were getting older or had less time. There were also other fundraising campaigns going on at the time.”

After seeing a foolish fashion show elsewhere, she decided a similar one would work for the local cancer unit. The first show was a sellout and the models of the evening agreed to take to the stage the next year.

Each designer/model is responsible for their haute couture. With the final result left to their wild, some might say perverse, imaginations the creations are a sight to behold.

Unit secretary and past president Bob Hunsley in his best 007 voice introduces himself as “Bob, SpongeBob.”

“Every good fashion show should include good costumes,” he begins. “Here, our unit president Edna McCormick is wearing her all-weather coat. In this coat she is well prepared for sunshine, rain, fog and snow and all the wind that blows (the coat is adorned with representations of each weather condition). Notice her “son” hat (which is a tribute to her son).”

Jane Smith is new to the Foolish Fashion Show runway.

“I came to the show last year and really enjoyed it. It looked like fun,” she said.

First time jitters?

“Doesn’t bother me a bit.”

This show is one in which you can’t do anything wrong. You show off your creation however you deem fit. It’s all fun.

Tom Kay, is making his modelling debut also. And what will Councillor Kay be strutting his stuff in? Not to give too much away but a muscle shirt like you’ve never seen and shorts will be worn.

Nine-year-old Emma McCormick is also a featured model.

It’s a show not to be missed.Read more here:www.marieaustralia.com/short-formal-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-2015
Pink Hat Jun 2017
Dear Mohammed,
Did you know.
Brits own 8 million dogs and
lavish 10 billion on pets
In Syria this must cause mirth
for its distorted priorities
but in Britain it awakens the soul
to love one’s animals most
It's a companion with few conditions
and reinforces  quaint traditions.
Do you find them funny?

Dear Isaac,
Did you know.
Why the sky is blue
You must have coloured it that way
It isn’t easy explaining but I try
The seven colours of the rainbow is light
Like the ocean it’s made of waves
Blue is the shortest so it’s nearest
Red is the longest so it’s  far behind
Arsenal still beat Chelsea though.
Are you laughing?

Dear Khadija,
Did you know.
You are beautiful and gifted
Bet you were surprised when they said
yes - let the world see your mind
and picture your thoughts
of the dark skinned man and woman
which is the colour of their diversity
When you reduced them to flat shades
Their conflicts became your success
What are you thinking right now?

Dear Mierna, Fatima and Zeinab,
Did you know.
Curling tongs are cool
Confidence is better than looks
Girls are doing better in school
Fifty-six countries had women leaders
Boys prefer curly to straight hair
but Beauty is mostly within
Make up is for the beholder
Smiling eyes are a winner
as a sure sign your heart is open.
Who said smile and the world smiles with you?

Dear Yahya, Firdaws and Yaqub,
Did you know.
Football was born in China
The first club was Sheffield FC
Messi is only five six
The number one rapper is Jay-Z
Your eyes and heart Firdaws
left its mark with its brushes
Inside is a free spirit
that roams across your sketches.
Who is your favourite artist?

Dear Baby Leena and sisters three and five,
Did you know.
Halloween was a Celtic belief
to mark the start of winter
School trips in year 6
can make friendships forever
Fingernails grow faster than toenails
Hair grows at half inch per month
just in case you like them painted
or wanted long locks for fun
You will soon take your first steps.
You cannot wait to run?

Dear Maria,
Did you know.
The home of the Bird of Paradise
is in faraway South Africa
The lotus sacred to Buddhists
is a symbol of hope and peace
Roses adorned Cleopatra
created by Chloris and Aphrodite
Hydrangeas are from the Himalayas
when pink the Beating Heart of Asia.
Do you like flowers?

Dear Jessica,
Did you know.
Australia was born in Dreamtime
onto a land that owned Man
Incas once reigned supreme
In the heights of a mountain
Fish and chips married in 1860
in London by the Bells of Bow
Bruno Mars was number one
but now he is second.
Where would you like to go?

Dear Amayah,
Did you know.
Perrault wrote Cinderella
and Beauty sleeping in the Forest
A princess likes to impress
like a jewel she’s so precious
Rapunzel had very long hair
Snow White very fair skin
Little Mermaid had very sad eyes
The Goat Girl a very clever mind
Would you like to read them all?

Dear Jeremiah
Did you know.
Writing is fun because you connect
with other inquisitive minds
Twenty-eight curved and straight letters
compose Arabic words in a line
The Chinese started before everyone
have characters nine thousand
Whether with a pen or a stick in the sand
No longer are the words confined.
What words will you write first, I wonder?

Dear Mr Councillor
You do know, don’t you?
Isaac has lost his pencil case
Jessica cannot find her tickets
Princess Amaya is looking for her dress
Jeremiah wants some paper
Fatima needs to read the Quran
Maria is desperate to water her plants
Mohammed keeps longing for the Sun and
Khadija is preparing for that accolade.

Forever there is a drought.

You, Mr Councillor, were the outline in their lives
and the shadow in our fears

Pinkhat
22nd June 2017
to those who suffered and lost
Marieta Maglas Aug 2013
She started to reorganize the kingdom,  to give it access to the sea,  
To modernize the economy, and any army officer had a college degree.
That superpower had one weakness: she was stronger than her king.
She reorganized the political administration by creating a diplomacy ring.

She used the high trees belonging to their forests  to build  many ships.
She opened gold mines by using slaves  being  beaten with hard whips.
Reforming the toll system, she rose the taxes to pay for the army wars,
And created the overseas colonies to have many ports on the seashores.

She dissolved the parliament not wanting to consult with them.
A lot of  protests took place in the main cities her behavior to condemn.
The archbishop retired, because she reduced the ecclesiastical rights.
The new archbishop was trustful to her, and made new religious rites..

This way, Surah held completely the religious and the political power.
To advocate her prerogatives, a new Doctor Fox she started to empower.
Surah created a new high society at the John's court to control his life.
The old nobility lost the independence, which was a major cause of strife.

Surah met John and asked him to give her a part of his kingdom.
John gave her a big province , which it became her  new sub-kingdom.
She recruited and trained a new secret army, being ready to strike him
Clearly knowing  that his chances of winning this battle are pretty slim.

John knew  he was too young to be a ruler and allied with Frederick.
To make friends the vassals for this battle with Surah, they were quick.
When her army was subdued , she really saw the fire of God as sacred.
She had to face His army, and to see how her own men were massacred.

There always had been poverty, but at that time, after seven years, there were many vagabonds on the streets. Frieda was preparing the dinner waiting for Pauline to come. Eda , their friend, helped her. Eda worked as  a servant for a rich person. Her husband was a digger. Pauline entered the house in a rush being very upset and saying,

'A **** stole my bag .'Eda said,'Hoboes have no license to beg.'
'I tried to catch him , but he ran so fast.' 'You should shake your leg'
'People like him are tied to a cart, and whipped till they are bloodied',
Said Pauline,'they're forced to return to their homes being so muddied.'



'By law, the vagabonds can be made slaves for ten years', said Frieda.
' If they ran away during this time they're made slaves for life’, said Eda.
'Some  people have to rely on poor relief', said Pauline. 'Others thrive.
After having money they're forced  to pay a tax to keep hoboes alive',

Said Eda.'The overseers can provide work for any able-bodied vagrant.
If he refuses to work he's whipped, but he waits to be caught in flagrant’,
Said Frieda. 'The pauper's child goes to the employer to be an apprentice',
Said Eda.'For many poor people, drinking gin is their only preference.'

Pauline said, ‘I would like to eat roast beef cooked with pea.'
'My dear, meat is a luxury. We have  bread, butter, potatoes and tea' ,
Said Frieda.'By the way, where's Surah now?''She's John's vassal
As a landless queen.’Pauline smiled.’ She lives in her old castle.'
(Mary , Clara and Sarah, another nun, were preparing their dinner. On the table , there were corn, carrots some cheese, a little bread, a bottle of milk and six eggs.)

Mary said,'Monastery churches were converted to parish churches.
Buildings having monastic cells were left to ruin for social searches.'
'In order to hide, we must build new monasteries in the mountain valleys',
Sarah said.' Teaching poor people, others live near towns having alleys’,

Said Clara.'They live humble lives needing silence to devote themselves
To the worship of God, to copy out  manuscripts placed on their shelves,
To baptize the people, to farm their lands, and for tending their sheep',
Said Mary.'She restricted pilgrims from coming there to pray and to sleep',

Said Clara.'Many suppressed monasteries were hardly hit to surrender.
To confiscate the lands', said Mary,'Surah also convicted any defender.'
'You're right. Those , who agreed to surrender were given pensions for life',
Said Clara,'The transfer of the  lands to the Crown was Surah's greatest strife.

Some monasteries were transformed into workhouses for poor people
Having no income. Throwing out the bell, she built a room in every  steeple',
Said Sarah.'Surah deterred poor people from asking the state for help.
In houses, they wore uniforms being angry, while hearing the dog's yelp.

Husbands , wives and children still live separately , while breaking the stone .
Many children are looking like having a syndrome of the hungry bone',
Said Mary.'What is she doing now?'Clara asked.'John pushed her out the door’,
Said Sarah,'She tastes the peace while recovering from her last war!'
(In his castle, Frederick, John and Matthew, who was Frederick’s councillor, were waiting for the dinner.
John was 19 years old , not a minor any longer. On the table, there were green beans, asparagus, grapefruits, cheese, bread, avocado and eggs.)

John said ,'my mother didn't let her have a very close relationship with us,
But help was there when I needed it most , and aunt Surah loved me, thus.’
Frederick said,'Then, why did she declare war against you? It's strange.'
'In just one year', said Matthew,'it's amazing how many things can change.'

'She taught you everything , this way, you tried to undermine her power',
Said Frederick. 'She threatened to destroy me, but I could never cower',
Said John,'her counselors built a wall between myself and my people.'
Matthew smiled', she was that sound coming from a mysterious steeple'

'Each king ceded to me a part of his land in exchange for his vassalage,
And she didn't like it', said John.'She couldn't add controls to backstage’.
Matthew said,’ You took their territories on the coast to expand the naval power.
You traced the traitors, who were her people to imprison them in the tower.’

’ She had governed your  kingdom while limiting your power and influence’,
Said Frederick, ' and while advising you  to use some diplomatic prudence.'
John said,'then, she used her corsairs to attack my merchant ships.'
Matthew said,'we must trace her, and cope with missing information slips.’

To be continued...tomorrow
Hanna Kelley Sep 2015
My plan is to graduate, go to college in some state
To take my friend to Canada before it's too late

I want to be a teacher or a councillor, something nice
I want to travel around the world, no matter the price

To go see China and learn the language and their ways
To go to Africa and watch how they live for days

I want to travel to India and visit some friends
I want to spend my life in Italy and hope it never ends

Germany, France, Mexico, Spain
Romania, Greece, Iraq, Ukraine

I really need to go to "the land of the green"
Meet up with friends and do everything in between

I know that I won't travel that far or do all of those things
But I have to be honest, it's a wonderful dream
I really want to travel to places all around the world, but that won't happen because I haven't even been outside the U.S.
onlylovepoetry Oct 2017
"Who writes poems like these?"

She, Miss Patty,
from Missouree? Missouruh?
asks me this question
round about a year ago,
after eavesdropping on an open poem line,
about a conversation,
a dialectic chat between me and the big guy in the sky^

(yeah, him, the magic marker Maker, who graffitis our lives only in
ink that just never goes away, cannot be erased,
talkin' bout this 'n that, ending, in a request from him for a
love poem personal (denied, fyi))

my answer:

come, sit for awhile, in poet's nook, upon soft pillows for our
tired sighs born in chests with a different kind
of breast cancer.
and upon these tough worn Adirondack chairs hard,
by the bay, we shall coverse in alternating verses

if too hot, the poetry's temperature.
we'll slow drift to the sun room of lace curtains and
heated suicide poems,
and after cool drinks
we'll observe the water, the rabbits, the cacophony low
of all the noisier creatures asking the trees and the
shuckling cappuccino frothy leaves
where did all those poets come from?
~
so to the question at hand and heart,

Who writes poems like these?

answers scarce, confessions plenty,
evasions conjured,
but tried, tired, and true, indeed
always ask myself, my sole troop,
that very same question every time,
the brain chimes poem time

'tis a truth, sort of, for the question is
asked by me, so oft,
should I, would I,
dare deflect the inflect of the eyes who cannot lie
and write a poem like this,
knowing it ends always only in tears,
or quit while ahead,
while my heart is slow beating,
and the pounding is temporarily,
halftime shelved

when
I ride the bus, open the kitbag,
find messages so privy
with and from the other poets,
(it is a privilege to be so councillor entrusted,)
picking up the gleaming gleanings of
fellow earth-extraordinaires,
reading the tales of the mad lunar lovers,
each of whom believe the moon has been following
only, each of them individually,
from childhood

when
exercising the muscle memories of love and ache
when watching the little gestures of my babies, my loved ones,
clues to who they are,
clues to who they will be.
after I am not

but let me be measured for measure by this:
Who writes poems like these?

well, after every writ complete,
weep and weep, if not laugh uproariously,
for though the question earnest, and I too,
never ever let adulthood interfere
with actions of my eyes, my mouth, my gut,
they all, masters now of me,
forcing me to write with abandon reckless and yet,
slicing off choicer cuts of me, carefully crafted, into
word etchings, painted water colors coming from the body's oils,
for my ration of rationality
has left town
for the summer, following the little drummer
boy,
perhaps, for the (double meaning) good

this each, a parcel of me, writing beguiling amuse bouches
of cache and cant, of poodles who speak human,
long legs in bed, high heels attached, conversations with moons,
crying to my lovers, I am a little boy, so needy,
and then the left foot turns to face
any and all gods who permit their names to be abused
for muddying murdering purposes,
as if we, all humans, all poets, were playthings,
bowling pins and not poets of some, any, the, way,
coming from the place
to where we all speak words, in our differing dialects,
accepting the blessings & curses thereof,
words but never fists

have I answered the question?

suspect not,
cause I am the suspect prime
in the crime
of low poetry
and high mis-demeanors,
and the authorities have been asking me the question for a lot longer than you, but no longer than one peculiar man,
Who writes poems like these?*
and they haven't caught me yet
and I haven't quite caught
the plain answer
Ember Evanescent Dec 2014
I had been keeping a safe emotional distance from her
Since she found out about the cutting, the eating disorders
and all the rest of the lies
I never really could talk to my mother
Especially since she doesn't deal
With shattered souls
Very gently
She yells when she doesn't know how to cope
And it just makes it worse
Because feelings are not logical
And she is more of a logic person
But she was in my room
Talking to me about our plans for tomorrow
Who was picking who up where and when etc.
And I had a song playing in the background
I listened too hard to the lyrics
Memories flashed back
And I burst into tears
At first she did the whole typical of her:
Grow up, get over it, stop being overdramatic and attention seeking thing
but when she saw my eyes
filled with tears
her baby daughter's eyes
in so much pain
she started crying too
and I recoiled at her embrace
I didn't want her comfort
She was never there for me
When I really needed her to be
And I am fairly unforgiving
About things like that
But I had been so alone
For so long
That year, I had spent full days
In black clothes
And total silence
Not speaking to anyone ever at all
because everyone hated me
No one wanted to be friends
With the girl who keeps getting called
To the councillor's office
And as this song brought me to tears
I couldn't take being alone anymore
So I let my mother hold me
She whisper through choked sobs: are you really still that sad about everything that happened?
And I answered in a hollow voice:
Mom. You have no idea...how broken I have been.
And she never did.
Loneliness
Is a scarring
type of agony
my year of complete and utter depression
Ju Clear Nov 2016
Feeling selfish
For resting
Councillor says
Your selfish for not resting
Delagate
Dump
Do another day
Don't bother
4 kids to mother
Pain makes you nasty
Irritable emotional
irrational
Horrible
Meds make you *****
Clumsy dangerous to drive
Rest is all I have
too be my best
Thinking the 4 Ds
Is how I role
Banish these feelings of guilt
I rest
To be my best .
It's challenging managing 4 kids and multiple sclerosis /pain
Styles 12 Apr 2017
They call me The Pastor
a ten year alcoholic who rose miraculously out of the bottle.

Who would have thought our  magnetically charged hearts
were tough as planets.

They call me The Pastor although my rough beginnings
  quickly kicked me out of God's House.

Or so I thought.

I roamed and bled ten thousand shades of darkness only to discover none of it was really mine.

How ironic.

They call me The Pastor, friends of mine, always seeking answers to tough riddles where they lay stretched out inbetween Wrong and Right.

They call me The Councillor for always listening to their problems.

Little did they know I was also trying to solve mine by seeing how they coped with theirs.

We are puzzle pieces to a mystery only we can solve by loving those fragmented parts of ourselves people closest to us threw away.

Do you realize how long it took for me to figure that out?

It feels like a thousand years.

They call me The Pastor even though I rarely quote from scripture.  

My church lives in the heart, in nature, in God's quiet whispers.

I do not claim any kind of righteous, fabulous glamour, nor do I take any money.

If you let people see your heart they will open up and listen.

They call me The Pastor
but I do not claim to be.

I only came by that name because after I roamed with Lions-

I was healed by Eternal Lamb.
Toxic yeti Dec 2018
‪Thuk-jey-che bedding for absorbing my tears‬


Thuk-jey-che to my books for helping me to cope

Thuk-jey-che mom for pretecting me

Thuk-jey-che councillor for reassuring me when I need it.
Think-jey-che means thank you in tibetan. I want to give a good thanks to all my friends and family on Facebook for helping me through this rough time.
TERRY REEVES Feb 2016
THIS LIFE OF OURS - ALL IN OUR IVORY TOWERS,
IS ANYONE LISTENING TO OUR PRAYERS?
LET''S SAY, YES - THEY ARE; SO YOU SAY - SO WHY
IS NOTHING HAPPENING? IT IS HAPPENING -
IT HAPPENS EVERY DAY - THAT'S WHY WE PRAY;
I'M ONE DAY OLDER TODAY - STILL KEEPING ON,
PERHAPS WE SHOULD ASK SOMEONE ELSE,
THE SOLUTION TO OUR PROBLEMS - THE COUNCILLOR;
SHE ASKED ME: 'WHY DO YOU LOOK DOWN AND NOT
MEET ME EYE-TO-EYE,' I SAID THAT I WOULD TRY,
'ARE YOU HAPPY AT WORK?'
'NO, I AM NOT - PEOPLE IRK ME AND ANNOY ME,'
'ARE YOU IN A GOOD RELATIONSHIP?'
'NO, I AM NOT - NOTHING IS GOING RIGHT,'
'IS YOUR FAMILY OK,'
'NO, THEY ARE NOT - SEEMS TO BE A NEW PROBLEM EVERY DAY;'
'STOP - WHERE IS YOUR MINDSET, WHERE IS YOUR FOCUS,
LOOK WITHIN YOURSELF AND RIISE ABOVE THESE THINGS,
TELL YOURSELF YOU'RE HAPPY, GIVE YOURSELF LOVE,
WHETHER IT BE TRUE OR NOT IT'S ALL YOU'VE GOT
TO GIVE YOU STRENGTH AND TELL YOUR INNER SOUL;
WE'VE BEEN WHERE YOU ARE - YOU'RE YOUR OWN STAR,
THERE'S NO ONE LIKE YOU, NO ONE CAN TOUCH YOU,
YOU'LL BE AMAZED AT WHAT GOD'S GIVEN YOU - YOU NEVER KNEW - DON'T KEEP TELLING YOURSELF THAT THERE'S NOTHING I CAN DO - WRONG!! SO WRONG.
YOU TELL ME THAT 'I DON'T KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE - I DO!
WHAT RIGHT HAVE I TO TELL YOU ANYTHING IF IT'S NOT TRUE?
GO ON, PROVE ME RIGHT - GET YOURSELF YOUR OWN LIFE.
Emeka Mokeme Jun 2018
My pen is
not Don Quixote.
It is a brave warrior
just like Don Quixote but
different in battle field.
This my pen is a
General in the
people's army.
It never retreats
or surrenders,
a workaholic.
My pen can be
pesky at times
but not unruly,
and not really a gentleman,
it is an erratic genius.
A minister of peace,
a councillor in crisis,
an advocate in justice,
a passionate lover,
prophetic in utterances,
intuitive and psychic in nature,
it  reads and knows your mind.
My pen,
common but uncommon,
ordinary but extraordinary,
a two edged sword,
piercing the physical even
deeper and penetrating to the
dividing line of the breath of life
and the spirit and of joints
and marrows of the deepest
part of our nature,
exposing and sifting,
analysing and judging
the very thoughts
and purposes of the heart.
My pen is unique,
stealth in action,
a smooth talker,
loves to be held
and pampered.
It has no time to check time.
My pen,
this my pen is my friend.
A good company indeed.
A covert operator.

©2018,Emeka Mokeme. All Rights Reserved.
Rhiannon Apr 2016
?
You're hopeless.
Completely utterly lost.
This bizarre abyss of feelings is haunting,
Even your councillor has no idea what you're on about.
Despite this you charge head on,
Armour strong longsword drawn.
Then you shatter into pieces,
As anxiety strokes your face.
Rhiannon Jun 2016
My councillor told me I was pretty,
And that would be ok.
If those weren't the words,
She was paid to say.
There was a time when I needed a good head upon my shoulders,
I needed to make a difficult decision,
one that would change my life forever.

I needed a councillor, I needed advice,
at that one time, alone, I chose the wrong path,
I chose blindly, and for that I still pay the price.

If only at that one time, I knew what was at stake
I would've screamed louder, I would've cried harder
for what I lost that day.

I lost years of existence, not moving an inch forward,
now I weep for what I am and for what I could've been,
if only I had seen what was so obvious for the rest.
april (2020)

.day 26..

nice when folks call and chat
though i understand the fear
on answering

my machine kicks in then
lets them talk to it so i can
take my time in
returning things

i phoned him yesterday
he still has little coal
& thinks the coal man
may just have closed
or decided to retire in
all this confusion, so
he may ask a councillor
for help and assitance

then walk up the back ***** to the top
levels where he can see right over to
where i live and wave

we talked about his drawing, neat
and time consuming.

mine is gestural
more immediate

does not matter how we are so long
as it suits us and hurts nobody else

so we carry on day to day
with chores & that keeping busy

when the weather is good we garden
meanwhile dust gathers in the house

while we we dust, the weeds grow in
the garden

i like some weeds
i tell him the names of flowers
how some are poisonous like
monks hood

tintin and snowy were on tv last night
i was too tired to concentrate

wednesday
Michael John Feb 25
times are hard when they
nick your toilet, lily..
if you expect people to be kind

then go live on mars..exodus..
where there once was rivers..
they will be happy when

we eat grass-(not smoke it)-
like clare..as he walked home..
wipe away transgression..

ii

time for dance
time is dance
too many laws

for instance-
none suffer hunger
in four four..

iii

i said to the councillor
instead of build roudabout
we open a cafe for hungry
(espec. children..)

i may have been speaking
martian..silence pervaded
like red canal..i thought of
mathmatics-

i can make a bowl of soup
for a dollar..or less-vegetarian..
do you know what that would cost?
no,no, we like building roundabouts..

you can go round and round
we do have some nice ones
true that..
there is this sweet little one..

iii

food is getting harder
and harder-famine shimmers
on the horizon

and not where it has traditionally
been but closer
year by year..

— The End —