He was panicked and embarrassed:
his us and them policies
had caught up with his privileged stock
and he found the process painful;
unfathomable.
His shares bled,
drip by drop;
immeasurably fixed
to quake the patron’s Rock,
transparent of his tricks.
And, still,
there, from the debris of the aftershocks,
came arrogant shticks with interlocking bricks,
to repair his crumbling, patriarchal edifice.
I read this to Ron in Texas (where I am at the moment) and I asked him “Who do you think wrote this?” Without a moment’s hesitation, he shouted “Juli!” And then, “I like Juli.”
LikeLiked by 1 person
How wonderful! Thank you, Bob and Ron xx
LikeLike