[For Jonathan Swift, whose wit is sorely needed today.]
Imagine the camel deceased
its rotting carcass dry boned
the trek of this ship of the desert now ceased
just a sad-sanded dromedary in the dust.
And Antar’s steed now solid steel
broken down stirrup and token spirit
surrendered to the surreal
covered with dust.
The Bani Toyota now raid us
driven by backward asses
not trying to evade us
but going for bust.
That Dodge Ram runs over the ewe
that Lamborghini in Abraham’s shaking hand
has no clue
but his son must
die too.
Can you cry
for all those driven to despair.
Do you care
for all those who cry.
The last sacrifice is nothing
but roadkill
for the thrill
and that is no accident.
