The End of Poetry

The cat beneath my feet Is someone I would never cheat, I wonder if she realizes That the end of poetry is near Grandma cooked soup Chicken soup of course, I wonder if she realizes That the end of poetry is near North Korea has the bomb The south are reluctant to respond, I wonder if she realizes That the end of poetry is near He reads the signs and turns his back This load within his heavy sack, I wonder if he realizes That the end of poetry is near He shakes a fist to his God In rage before he receives the nod, I wonder if he realizes That the end of poetry is near I wonder if he realizes That the end of poetry is near