Patricia Cresswell Poet Free verse

What Goes Around

what goes around...

human bombs wait  with fundamentalist patience
to wipe us from the earth as infidels
for polluting paradise

shocked disbelief rises like smoke from 911 
hovers over ticky tacky boxes
morning coffee, 
last night's discarded 
plastic wrapped 
lost generation 
all for the flush

spindizzy in a clock-wise vortex
stare out through a green dollar haze
and miss the point   again

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Lim'Rik Flats September 24, 2017 at 7:15 PM Yup. My inner cynic says, "Always will." My occasional brushes with youth make me think, "maybe not." I like how you put the spin on this topper. Lots of fun stuff like "ticky tacky boxes, spindizzy vortexing, green dollar haze" — ah heck, all of it! ~j Patricia Cresswell September 24, 2017 at 7:25 PM I was in a funk one day. Couldn't imagine being hated so vituperously. Out popped this piece, perhaps we are partly responsible?

Maureen McGreavy Pigeon Tart September 23, 2017 at 4:10 PM Your sword sings a powerful song. Patricia Cresswell September 23, 2017 at 5:24 PM Thank you Maureen. We never learn.

Peter Rees September 23, 2017 at 4:53 AM Quite so, the way we are, succinctly stated. A hint of hope would have eased an otherwise bleak scenario. Patricia Cresswell September 23, 2017 at 11:52 AM I know it is bleak but this one time I wanted the reader to be responsible for finding the hope.