On the very boring street of Venetia Avenue
A child, not unlike you or me, looked through
A crack in the pavement.
What did he see? Many have asked
The same question we ponder today.
In reality, it does not matter
But I will tell you nonetheless
Under our feet looms another world
One of people who lead polar lives
In the land of Mundus
All is grey and glum
Because you can't invert a world of invention;
You will end up with only desire
For what will cease to exist
Upon a second visit.

Lawrence Hall, HSG
Mhall46184@aol.com

                Our Children Will Ask Us What We Did in 2024


                                            Thus was th’ applause they meant,
                           Turned to exploding hiss, triumph to shame
                           Cast on themselves from thir own mouths.

                                   Milton, Paradise Lost, X.545-547


Have we not learned?

The Zeppelinfield, the Kroll Opera House
The Great Hall of 10,000 People
The Hippodrome, the Piazza Venetia
Red Square, and the Quicken Loans Arena

Weak beings subsumed within one commanding Will
Adoring with glistening eyes and beating hearts
A strident oligarchy of destiny
Chanting obscurities and pumping fists

But when the chanting stops and foul diktats roll –
Will you - will I? - be a defiant soul?