Poem: Wrestle

 

Wrestle

 

the brain of the sapient wrestled with itself,

reason versus the cruel.

 

would condos break into outer space,

the Earth crack, a sweet cosmic egg?

 

or would people go extinct

and nature forget the nuke-boom slide?

 

for now, anyway, animals would wear collars

and fail to run wild.

 

factories meant trees would never grow,

flowers never bloom, oceans stink.

 

the whole globe had succumbed to gobble.

a straight-lined, fence-bound grip.

 

each biped tall.  a consumer, a blade,

in the ubiquitous abattoir.

 

who needed other species, anyway,

except the purry, loyal, tasty few?

 

(it was either us

or the last herds of caribou)

 

who needed ice in the arctic circle? or even weather

when you had air conditioners?

 

the brain of the sapient wrestled with itself,

reason versus the cruel--

 

on the edge of doom.

 

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Having a rough time.  Edited almost every poem I wrote since October.  No certainty.  In my brain or in the world.  Afghanistan debacle unspeakable.  One more horror.  It all mounts.