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Click hereThere’s a helicopter hovering overhead,
circling, not like traffic cop or care flight,
high like surveillance, huge like army,
and it suddenly seems so sinister
you think that you might get sick.
Terrorists?
Hostages?
Homeland Security?
Just what kind of invasion is this anyway?
It’s so troubling I turn on the news.
Then I think of all my ex-girlfriends
and all the lives I once invaded and
the lives that once invaded me, lives
we tore down and destroyed together,
wanting more than we could ever give.
It seems strange I never see them anymore,
because I haven’t moved and I’m not dead.
Sometimes it seems like it never happened.
So is that the way it is when we die?
Well, there’s nothing on the news, but
I go back outside and watch the skies,
vigilant, armed with binoculars just in case.
Poor little eunuch has probably never left the town that hatched him, while the rest worry about the world war that's currently raging.
He's afraid of a helicopter. Oh, my! It must be the big, bad, black-clad stormtroopers small minds like Steve always fear, though they have never spoken to anyone who has actually seen any. And now he's going to watch out for them. This would be a humorous piece of...well...nothingness if anyone took it seriously.
I am unsure of what the poem is about steve, I have enjoyed your poetry before, this one escapes me <grin> no vote for this may be a good poem <grin>
although I'm afraid I miss your nature inspired poetry!