By Shirley Segev
© Shirley Segev
Permission is given hereby to all who want to use these poems personally for their enjoyment and/or share them freely with others: verbally, in writing, online, or otherwise, by copying them without making any changes, and as long as they do not receive any payment in return.
Contact: shirley.segev@sympatico.ca
I feel better when I look out
the window
at the cloudy, dreary sky,
and the rain and the mud,
the naked bark rot and waste.
I say, my, how you screw up your
world, God,
and this just a little weather,
mind you, no earthquake, or flood or
big winds,
compared to those
my screw-ups too are modest;
though I must confess
it's not fair
that the concept of god
is useful
to justify small transgressions,
is this what brought on
the flood.
Are you asking me? Big
mistake.
I tend to ponder and pause
then give the long-winded
tentative careful
(do no harm) take.
How can I cover all bases,
all causes, all consequences,
you want something clear
and definitive
or maybe half-way affinitive
it will take more than the
power to fake.
Last night I had this dream
I was in court, a witness,
or defendant, possibly a claimant,
yes, in small claims court, the one
of no major grievances or losses,
the sum total of meager
expectations.
Suddenly a guard changed
the plaque
on the wall to Big Supreme Justice.
It shook me up, I thought,
why here,
no one came here for that,
(it doesn't work in the big one),
leave us to our small judgments
and misdemeanours, wake up,
it's all we came for.