by Mark Danowsky
I put on my headphones
in preparation to head out
with the dog, tuned in
to public radio, but paused
hearing,
Our army wiped out . . .
artillery, air force,
everything wiped out. This
may be the last broadcast.
We'll stay here to the end . . . And I might have paused longer
had I tuned in when he said,
Police and army reserves are unable
to control the mad flight. By morning
the fugitives will have swelled
Philadelphia, Camden, and Trenton,
it is estimated, to twice
their normal population. At this time
martial law prevails throughout
New Jersey and eastern Pennsylvania. But the old-timey recording quality
was a dead giveaway. And had it been
Audie Cornish or Robert Siegel
instead of Orson Welles
I would have re-bolted the front door
then run to the newsfeed.
Mark Danowsky’s poetry has recently appeared in Mobius: The Journal of Social Change, Red River Review, Right Hand Pointing, Snow Monkey and The Best of Every Day Poets Anthology Two. He resides in Northwest Philadelphia and works for a private detective agency.
