Optics Imbroglio
a runaway truck
barrels through an intersection.
no one is there to be astonished
a cat hugs a dead bird to its breast
the image curls inward
like a snail shell
the mail is late
a condor perches on the mailbox
waiting
people fall out of planes
on fine days and bad
insightful
elephants run from tsunamis
the beach sunbathers
would blame global warming
if they could
politicians jockey for position
elbows out and backs slapping
then settle down into the gloss of the moment
cameras whirl
optics need say nothing
but when the mouths open
it is both historical
and hysterical
imbroglio with meatballs
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