3

AMERICANS CAN'T WAIT FOR ARMAGEDDON, AND WHY IS THAT, ANYWAY?

Every day steeped in suspicion,
Repetition, and extradition
Waiting in anticipation
Of one day down the road

When mountains crack and
plateaus crumble
Buildings shake and turn to rubble
Oceans boil,
Rivers bubble
And reactors explode

And people run into their houses
Grab their children or
Their spouses
Cry or scream or pray or
Shout and
Party in the streets

And drink until their stomachs spew up
All the fear, affairs, and pre-nups
All the contracts, pain, and
Screw ups
And years of treated meat

The blood will soak like spilled merlot
Through sheets tucked low
And white like snow
As mothers choose
How their babies go
In a holy, tear streaked rite

Our days filled with anticipation
Conversation, and explanation
Of what we dream of
As a Nation
When we lie in bed at night