Friday, February 26, 2016

The Heir to Everything

Riding through the warm and greeny air
the Heir to Everything regards
the imminence of Spring
as too conventional to bear –

surely he can conjure up
a rarer mission for the year than March:
something with more punch and starch –
a sharpness of division, split as if by a harpoon

into a mad excess of sultry midnight, frigid noon:
full of the ignoble forming
of conditions human beings
will insist on calling global warming.


1 comment:

Seyed said...

...ahh, the bliss of the corporate( royal) first person singular, or plural...