*from Scalpels for the Blind c1978 by S.M. Plottner.
S.M. Plottner has been writing poems since 1968.
He has been published in a limited number of regional
and small-press publications since 1972.
He is presently working on a series of poems called
When We Were Small.
For details, e-mail, or continue to next page for more.
splot@infinet.com
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by S.M. Plottner from "Seasons Greetings from the Howard Street Station" c1999
There was a fear going around that Wal Mart
There was a fear going around that Nazi-hunters
There was a fear going around that USA
There was a fear going around that Aids
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might sell coffins this winter, and a grey
conundrum from Wichita stretches clouds
inside the village limits between porches.
No knowledge unlocks thick fog of failure,
no condom protects from clinical depreciation,
we are going to the next millennium by bus.
might take Mr. Martin in for questioning, and
a big rig let loose east of town dusting Main Street
ninety miles an hour headed to the courthouse.
No seatbelt law restrains crashkill of justice,
no video reveals young liable libido lunge,
we are going to the next millennium by bus.
might merge with Euro Disney, and lice
grips every strand of human kindness and
every hair on every human's tongue in town.
No itching relieves the herpes of heresy here,
no lotion soothes a first amendment cancer,
we are going to the next millennium by bus.
might pollute Santa Monica's water supply,
and an avalanche on Highway One has
clogged the only artery to pulsing Malibu.
No shovel opens up the grave of grieving,
no digging discloses the death of dreams,
we are going to the next millennium by bus.
