REGIME CHANGE
we are meeting for coffee
fifty years to the day
we last
saw, spoke
to each other
could be real could
be just a dream
reality getting so porous
you could easily just
stick out
your hand
test the fabric
odds and probabilities
suggest five times in nine
you could
stick
your finger
straight through
the veil fading, evaporating
and something no less
ephemeral now
about the realm
of truth
all of which we do not discuss
hard after all those years
to find common
ground, something
worth sharing we
know
will be appreciated
meanwhile flashing in neon
writing on the wall
portents eveywhere
suddenly it
is all
a troubling semiotics
of apocalypse
heads blown off my
bombs, pulverized by
missiles
innocents vaporized
at primary school
signs and codes of
death and
second
coming, dynasties
of temple
perhaps (thinking aloud)
the world needs regime
change
for our very survival we
need every single regime changed
I feel, though you
shrug, the betrayed presence
of a half smile.
poems 2 die for 