A Hundred Fifty Million Dead

Poem By Charles Chaim Wax

in the first wave, ”
declared Peter F
referring to the
killing power of the
Bird Flue
once the microbe
migrated to humans.
“Mostly in Asia
but we’ll have
our share here.”
“As bad as that? ” I asked.
much worse
and no more burials
forget about that
gotta burn the bodies
make sure
the minuscule critters
don’t transmigrate
into the cells of crops
we’re talking
three hundred million
mass hysteria
total insanity
“Nearer my God to Thee, eh? ”
I said
a bit nervous at this point.
Peter F flipped his feet
on his desk
placed his palms behind his head
“The Almighty’s in the clear
no substance
only Spirit.”

Comments about A Hundred Fifty Million Dead

I have quickly read three of your poems. You have a very interesting style. It is more like mini, mini stories which have a poetic flair. They are honest and I appreciate honesty. It is also good to have supportive friends when one finds the courage to take that leap of faith. I will read more later, I've spent too much time at this site today! Be Well
great poem! keep up the good work!
Lovely. I like this very much. Natshia

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Other poems of WAX

A Meditation On Emptiness

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I would have preferred 4 AM
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A Day In The Life Of An Aspiring Transvestite

Tired of typing gibberish
on a rainy Sunday
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No Expectation Of Reward

Being the union guy at Spinoza HS
created a morsel of interest to the day
like when Darwin Dix showed up
his hair a bunch of purple spikes

You Think That's Funny

Something's wrong with me
Or them
I'm talking the men and women
Who deliver the weather

A Man Of True Worth Extends His Protection To All The Realm

After ten years of teaching English
at Spinoza HS I couldn’t take it anymore
and decided to devote myself
to writing full time.

Overcome With Awe

As I parked the car on East 12th street
a mouse appeared on the outside
of the windshield
a baby, anyway so small