Poem of the Month
Nursery Rhyme for Big Brother

By Derek Webster

Published on November 6, 2015

Palace flags and shoot-to-kill orders,
cardboard tanks and well-lit borders,
dungeons and lice, grenades and books,
photos retouched and high-kicking boots,
bright deadly frogs, bureaucratic snails,
land-reform talks that never fail to fail,
gas in the mountains, e-coli in the food,
gold chocolate fountains and light sweet crude.

Do you dream of rending wrong from right?
Good luck, my darling, good luck and good night.

More Poetry

His barely recognizable corpse

His barely recognizable corpse had gone through the passage rites of propriety, the grandiloquence of motionlessness.

Radii

platonic / platinum. I could lick the hair of his arms to smell the sunlight but let the lilac air wheel-speak our sympathies.