by Earl J. Wilcox
Hundreds die daily in Darfur,
Paris is burning.
A dozen American soldiers die today in Iraq,
Paris is burning.
The ice caps melt, melt, melt
Paris is burning
Putin and Bush argue,
Paris is burning
Imus is rotting on his ranch,
Paris is burning.
Another teen is abducted,
Paris is burning.
The Yanks are a dozen behind the Bosox
Paris is burning.
Barry beefs up more and more
Paris is burning.
Lindsey sulks in Santa Monica,
Paris is burning.
Some days the news is just
Paris is burning in jail tonight.
Earl J. Wilcox founded The Robert Frost Review, which he edited for more than a decade. His poetry was recently nominated for a Pushcart Prize.
