THE MACY'S DAY PARADE
WAS NEVER LIKE THIS
It is Thanksgiving 2004,
          and somewhere glaciers are melting
                       along with the Snows of Kilimanjaro,
                              while genocide proceeds apace in Darfur,
                  and a pandemic flu begins
            to boil in the cell of a chicken roosting 
 in a hamlet in southern Vietnam,
        a bird whose spindly legs cannot possibly 
    bridge the chasm of trade deficits
                 and consumer credit opening
      beneath us, into which jobs, pensions,
           whole futures will slide until
                  our Grand Canyon of denial
                          nearly fills.

It is Thanksgiving 2004, a
          delicious meal, then the worst
  stomach ache ever, my entire
             world on the carving board.


November 26, 2004
               
                       
    

All written material © Bill Schechter, 2016
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