by Kay White Drew
In this time of mad kings and sycophants
run amok, when suffering a(n orange) fool
feels like an everyday sucker punch,
it almost seems natural that men dripping
with petroleum wealth should g(r)ift
said fool with a solid gold airplane,
even as air traffic safety itself wears as thin
as a garment over-worn and over-washed—
its overworked, under-slept guardians picking up slack
for colleagues capriciously fired by clueless
boys and their billionaire boss—unsung heroes
who must summon reserves of strength
and calm they no longer possess
and may never know again.
run amok, when suffering a(n orange) fool
feels like an everyday sucker punch,
it almost seems natural that men dripping
with petroleum wealth should g(r)ift
said fool with a solid gold airplane,
even as air traffic safety itself wears as thin
as a garment over-worn and over-washed—
its overworked, under-slept guardians picking up slack
for colleagues capriciously fired by clueless
boys and their billionaire boss—unsung heroes
who must summon reserves of strength
and calm they no longer possess
and may never know again.
Kay White Drew is a retired physician whose poems appear in various anthologies and internet outlets including The New Verse News. She’s also published short stories and several essays, one of which was nominated for a Pushcart Prize, and a memoir, Stress Test. She lives in Rockville, MD with her husband. Spending time in nature helps her stay sane in these difficult days.
