Polar wind dances
across cracked, arid
Earth.
A youthful grin
overcome with fear
watches the dust fly.
The devil is in that dust.
The icy marshes are in
migration. Tom Joad can
empathize.
Who needs water
but the animals,
who needs dust but the Earth?
The polar winds have come
to finish the sculpture.
Our youthful grin emerges
and is wiped clean.
What’s been going on here?
Who’s in charge?
Anyone?
Zack Henry, USA
A perpetual quest to remain interesting,
but,
to
whom?
It may concern you,
the thought of being alone.
The thought of the feeling
before skin bursts.
It may concern you,
the thought of the moment
before death.
The last moment of
life.
But,
to whom to be faithful
and to whom to be not?
Paradigms
Norms
Being
Above all, to whom do we cast for,
and with whom are we concerned?
The thought is concerning,
but its assurances are bliss.
Zack Henry, USA
A friend once led me
to the back of the cannery
An endless belt of heads, tails,
and fins.
Ancient, rigorous salmon.
Endless belt of scales,
into the maw.
quarter-pound,
half-pound,
“Talls.”
Endless
water
steam
Machines.
Endless days,
that suddenly end.
Endless people
that finally leave.
A friend once led me
to the back of the cannery
he laughed, and I cried.
Zack Henry, USA
The Social Poet 