PAX AMERICANA

In the desert there is a pocket that

Is the poem. A watery bubble on an

Arid surface, like a fingertip on a

Voided screen that sparks to touch. The failed eavesdrop.

It looks like life, or its mimesis, here

Among the droning decadence of dune

After dune, shrugging, as chrysanthemums

Shrug at a burning, chrysanthemum sky.

It looks like life, or its oasis. But

Now at the door, at the edge of enter

Or invade, of live as though no desert

Has ever known you, fathered you, been you,

Prayed for you, to behold the bubble now

From within, the starry dome of pleasure

Above you, the palms’ perspiring mists

Made from quietly purring machines, no

Drones overhead, no schoolchildren scream;

Thus the poem, your one true savior, loves you.