An Arrangement of Deck Chairs
Fear anew the heat of the sun; it burns
the air like high noon in a prison yard.
It’s after the war but before the peace
that the next world disappears into dream:
a failure of the imagination.
People say my great-grandchildrenas if
they exist. They don’t. Nothing exists but
this empty house that is never empty.
What do we owe? A debt defaulted
before it’s even incurred, aye... Oh! You?
A late romance, fields fallow, real estate.
We are about to suffer the sea-change.
After the election, before the end,
the curse is lifted; the curse descends.
Gregory Crosby is a former Las Vegan; his latest collection is Walking Away From Explosions in Slow Motion