9/11/02

The rivers run.
The tides change,
And the mountains are gradually worn down to a nub.
And I,
I go to sleep each night to the sound of the shopping
    network that takes over our local CBS affiliate in the
    early hours of the morning,
Secure in the knowledge that if anything truly
    momentous happens
Dan Rather will interrupt the TV personalities peddling costume
    jewelry
And I,
I will be the first to know.
The rivers run.
The tides change,
The desert advances, like an army,
And the insomniacs and the senior citizens keep the wheels of
    capitalism turning long into the night.

Comments

[Kristialyn]

This poem painted a continual stream of pictures in my head. I enjoyed reading it.