Oh, Noah (Poem)

Photo credit: Duallogic

We can’t fix the sinking boats.

We must build an ark.

Our ark is rustic.

Their coffins are varnished.

Why try to keep

wood and flesh

undecomposed, underground?

Our wood burns effortlessly

once floodwaters abate.

***

May I have another drink, kids?

God bless ravens.

Isn’t this a nice campfire?

Isn’t this fine real estate,

here on shores where

incessant wakes of catastrophe

deliver shells

and random flotsam

to our sandy toes?

***

It has long been like this;

maybe it shall be so

for all our children.

But memories of today’s rainbow

keep nagging me,

with a rumor that

there might be more

to all of this

than doom.

JEFF MALLINSON

Note: We can’t fix America. We can’t fix the Middle East. We can’t fix the churches. We can only heal ourselves. Then what? Try and let us find out. It just might fix everything.