Thursday, May 6, 2010

A Black River Runs Through It. Again

Maybe you've seen the headwaters of this black river,
It's there in Prince Williams Sound,
Where dark puddles linger, decades later--
Here's where it began, with
Death and death and mess.
Floating booms can't restrain stupidity
and bad planning--
Nor can fire burn away carelessness.
If the bitch, Katrina, wreaked anarchy,
Howling for attention,
 Then here is a quiet, black anointing, insidious,
Slinking into the Gulf waters,
Threading through the delicate lace
Of estuary and delta,
Like a Dementor ready to 
Suck the life from us. Again.

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