IN THE NEWS
I've never published poetry on this blog, and I've never published anything here that I haven't written. Today is a bit of a landmark, therefore. Someone sent me the following poem, which I thought deserved publication. (Once you read it, you can see why the content is appropriate for Arms and Influence.) The author wishes to remain anonymous.
It's come
by Anonymous
It's come
It's finally come
It's finally come to this
The whisper that might be something else
maybe not so bad
a filthy shadow rushing through the trees
a bad spell, everyone just temporarily mad.
Now panic's breaking through, if only for a flash,
the anesthesia's coating, the screaming,
then the crash.
Go back to sleep, the trembling in the fingers,
the tightening in the gut, just can't be real.
It's just
a dream, my darlings. Nothing here to see, nothing to
conceal.
But when you wake
the idiot clown face, once glimpsed from afar (was it really
him we saw, walking down the sidewalk, riding in that car?)
is standing in the living room, lying in your bed, going through your
underwear, reading what you said.
He's finally come,
He's really here..
He's finally come for me.
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