29 June 2013 One New Poem One Old One, Copyright Doug Stuber 2013


You’re on a
roll, writing major
diatribes, epic
essays on Pierre, pushing
legalization of all

things fun, stomping snow,
continuing your affair
with Laurie, a catalyst.
Poems ring Keene as
a wagon

train: defense,
though minimal from
government strong arms.
Your brother set you free, so
you learned how to survive on

what is left of our
country’s benevolence toward
those wrongfully left behind
by the sickening
money grab

at the top.
Kindred radical street muse
lit fires long
ago, made us fast
friends, sporadic loud

of the horrors going on.
Your niche, carved
with aesthetics, burns
truth when lies prevail.


New One Above, Old One Below


The Shining Path

Plant technicians spray
Untold zillions of hanging and or
Boxed flora. Oxygen-producing takes on new
Importance in buildings where windows
Only open text.

That someone might need
Fresh air, never occurred to design
Teams hired to assist architects who sealed us in.
So a whole generation gathers,
Squirts, fertilizes.

Job-production, an
Old game with a new twist, keeps just
Enough folks working to avoid revolution.
The illuminati keep us all
In place ’til needed.

One day the flower
Box jobs may disappear. The meek may
Inherit what is left after the enlightened
Have gobbled all the rest. For now:
Dig, spray, replace, dig.

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