Danse Macabre

Give us our daily bread
Said the band of homeless
Whose shadows were left sleeping
In cardboard cubicles.

They were informed that there
Was no bread and to get going
Down the street to the heat vent
To warm their knees.

Doesn’t that say it all?
A meteorite crashed through a church,
And a parade of goblins and skeletons
Passed by in stark daylight.

The rings of a flood years ago
Could still be witnessed
On the natural history museum.
Plain as day, and not just on a solstice.

Even the store selling Jesus trinkets
Stays open Sunday, the owner
Smoking his clove cigarettes
Playing a computer game

Where he’s one of the four
Horsemen of the apocalypse,
His goth friends yelling at the screen.
Even a layperson can catch a glimpse.