They’re at it again, fewer clowns,
but more grotesque, in words and deeds.
This years’ Indian summer has
come twice, but don’t worry, one is
a hoax, meant to make us buy more
warm weather clothes before winter.
They’re all there: bad, worse, disastrous.
We can pray, but clowns have the field,
an open path to inform us
of the yield for those with power.
Conspiracies abound, trapping
us in hidden webs of deceit.
Now the crooked clowns tell us how
to think about events world wide,
waves of discontent with our state
of being. When the clowns come for
the others, it won’t be long for
us, and when we are gone, no one
else will be there for blame.
“Call us,” the site said, “and we will
serve your interests, making your life
smooth and easy. Relax with us;
let us solve your problems today.
We have all needed expertise.
Visit our site or call, contact
us now; your call is important.
So it said, and so I looked
for the right button: nirvana
on demand, freed from all worry,
the paradise of solved problems,
but I hardly know what they are.
Does it matter? They’ll all vanish;
I’ll sit and pick up a sun tan.
No one is involved; they’re all menus.
I can try for a person by
pressing zero, or eight, or nine.
We know my call is important;
I’m next in line, so I’m on hold.
Good luck with that; no answer here
just mindless muzak in my ear.
Edwin S. Segal has been writing poetry since college in the late 50s and early 60s. Fortunately, he says, everything written before 1974 has been lost. He started publishing his work in the early 80s but it’s been sporadic. He counts himself as an amature poet; he doesn’t and probably couldn’t make a living at it. Currently, he is Professor Emeritus of Anthropology at the University of Louisville, Louisville, KY. He has done research in eastern Africa and Central Asia. Apprentice House Publishing has agreed to publish Heritage, his first book of poems. The book was released in May 2017.