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When I Scan
They are in bottles.
Affection and attention
are the preservatives.
When the bottles open,
they suddenly overflow
like the salted soda.
When I scan their world
in Time’s womb………
finger tips toppling
the governments,
peace burning
under the bombers,
smiles dying
on the lips,
morality walking
with Alzheimer’s,
robots reaping
on the terrace,
cars flying
in the air,
tourists charting
to the Mars,
nostrils opening
before the screen,
wounds widening
on the Earth’s scalp,
seasons disobeying
the calendar,
sea swallowing
the island kids……
Children, I see
strange embryos growing.
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