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A Hundred Fifty Million Dead
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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.
“Worse
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
then
then
we’re talking
three hundred million
mass hysteria
total insanity
fear
confusion
terror...”
“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
saying,
“The Almighty’s in the clear
no substance
only Spirit.”

User Rating: 5,0 / 5 ( 3 votes ) 3

Comments (3)

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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