Election year, Blake’s poison tree

infecting the water system.

On the counter a pamphlet proclaims:

White people, wake up, take pride in your race….


While bicycling Wisconsin’s county trunks,

my knee, that intelligent joint

that adjudicates between motion and rest,

has ordered a stop here at ‘Bert’s By The Lake’


where silhouettes slip into shadows,

and an afternoon game show drones on T.V.;

diabetes and ischemic stroke full on the menu;

all eyes in the place like opened switch blades


pointed towards me, so I chose discretion,

don’t ask why amidst all this bucolia

does beauty seem to be the song

of an unfamiliar, untrusted bird;


or why such hatred of anything feminine;

nor do I try for common ground,  Instead

I slip into a booth quiet as I can,

my silly, cleated shoes chirping as I walk.



John Krumberger



This entry was posted on in homepage and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.