by Mara Jebsen
Good morning, Calamity Jane
–plenty disaster for breakfast again.
Staunching of blood. Stemming of tide. Not
enough Dutchboys with fingers in the dam. . .
Do Wake Up Calamity Jane. We are killing
even our favorites, again. Soldiers & small
flash-mouth boys. Pedestrian
death.—Plenty of martyr for our
coffers. or Coffins. Plenty…fodder for our
Martinis–I mean plenty…
Don't get muddled, Calamity Jane.
Terror's a river that rises again. Brace
for the hate that laps up the spine,
Stockpile dreams for a dryer time.