Heading South by Pris Campbell

 

Polar caps float past the White House.
Men and women leap from the roof
onto rowboats, purloined sailboats,
documents about the myth
of global warning shredded quickly.

Security Guards cling to the top
of the Empire State Building.
They wait for a large piece of debris
to float by before they jump,
hoping to cling, Titanic style,
until the lifeboats come back
to get them.

The Statue of Liberty sighs in sorrow,
takes a deep breath before the tides
overcome her.

At the docks, immigrants, already loaded
for deportation, let loose the dock lines,
pick up floating men and women of all colors,
the elderly, women from rape camps,
Gay couples separated, now united again,
the homeless, lost children.

They add poets and artists to document
this shifting New Age, head south
with a crude map to where word
has spread that Atlantis, long sunk,
has risen again just for this day in history.

2 Responses to “Heading South by Pris Campbell”

  1. Carter Monroe Says:

    Fine work, Pris!

  2. priscampbell Says:

    Thanks, Carter!

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