Thursday, April 28, 2011

Hurricane a poem by Daigneault

The devil had a party

Tuscaloosa rides rotting, gnashing teeth

A few short minutes

All held dear, shredded trash

Timbers and TVs, babies and board games

A living city took to flight

A few short minutes

The monster howled, lives and memories were lost

Everything, that is every thing lost

Hopes and worries and tomorrows plans

A few short minutes

This quintessential crime

And standing in the wreckage

a stranger with a camera

This ultimate pornography

Served with America's morning coffee

A shattered woman, more than alone

Knee deep in shredded sorrows

“I don’t know how to do this”

She said, with her voice shaking

Well be right back

after a word from our sponsors

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