what remains
after days and days,
days and more
days? count the
platitudes. count the anger,
sorrow. count the dead.
I finally got around to doing my collage for the Congo writing challenge at the Ekphrastic Review (my poem was not chosen), above.
It seems our President has decided to skip even the platitudes.
K. 
Woah, that’s a very deep soulful poem.
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Thanks Jude.
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Counting the dead. Doesn’t get grimmer than that.
It’s short but it packs a punch.
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Thanks Jane. The world has filled me with despair lately.
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Even the tiny things are getting harder to take.
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Yes.
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This is a very poignant poem, Kerfe.
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Thanks Robbie. So much death…life seems to be spinning out of control here.
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So sorry, Kerfe.
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Powerful. And you’re right. He’s not even doing the platitudes–he’s now talking to the basest.
On another note, I was thinking about you this morning while I was out walking. The crows had a lot to say. I got a photo of one lecturing away to a goose who just didn’t care.
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I can’t wait to see it!
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So much denial circulates. I love your poem for its raw presence and the collage.
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Thanks Janice. I seem to hav a permanent headache from current events.
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Agreed.
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Thanks Ken.
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