SAME OLD MOTIFS, SOUNDING OFF AGAIN

by George Salamon

The Washington Post, April 22, 2018

Only old folks and children
Do no harm to the present
By thinking of the future.
In the corridors of power in Washington,
In the bunkers of Pyongyang
They plot our future
For which we'll pay the usual price
In corpses, cripples and orphans,
In poverty, disease and despair.
During our long march of folly
We have rarely allowed history
To become our teacher,
Preferring to gulp the snake oil
Of one ism or another.
Like fireworks on the 4th of July.
Teachable moments soar and sparkle.
And then, in a puff, they are gone.

George Salamon would like to be but does not expect to be surprised by headlines. He lives and writes in St. Louis, MO.

DOG-WALKING IN THE SHADOW OF PYONGYANG

by Devon Balwit




We flip a coin over who walks
the dog, not tired, but edgy,
for the loser glances covertly
upward, listening for whistles,
siren-ready, side-eyeing each lot
for shelter. Somewhere in Pyongyang,
a finger hovers over a button, a head
cocks to catch the command
that will release the unmaker of worlds,
mine. The button-pusher is loyal,
me, reduced to caricature, and soon
to ash, all of us, web-stuck
in history. As with solar flares,
the big quake I’m told is coming,
or closer still, the millions arriving
next month to eclipse-gawk, my way
to cope is to deny, acting as if
and going about my business.
Kim Jong Un may render all
my insomniac panic moot—
aging, health-care, the planet,
my kids, my craft—a flame out sear
to trace elements in an open crater.

Devon Balwit is a writer/teacher from Portland, OR. Her poems have appeared in TheNewVerse.News, Poets Reading the News, Redbird Weekly Reads, Rise-Up Review, Rat's Ass Review, The Rising Phoenix Review, Mobius, What Rough Beast, and more.