poem - After Spending Eternity At the Office Playing Solitaire

 

After Spending Eternity At the Office Playing Solitaire

 

  Our campfires so big                    a nasty-gram being read aloud

 filthy roaring crackles                     howls like winter rye gone awry

 

night skies upside brown                she is interrogatorily oblique

and police chiefs resign                   remotely fire-science smote

 

I didn’t see a black car                     as Mr. Jones’ mu radiates warmth

our tiresqueaking screech               Mrs. Brown controls negligence

 

crashed into a rainswamp              Mr. Greenie’s crash car afloat

         as my faces hit water               & Jean Johnson tilts windmills

 

we tread whiskey rivers                   each of us is three she whispers

as I seem to be another two            but now the fire dries us off