O what limb-rending pains in furrows by thy lightnings rent.
This is eternal death, and the torment long foretold.
William Blake, "America, A Prophecy"
East, at midnight the sun falls, and all
Congress is in purdah,
eating caviar; fish sweat perfumes the hall.
Yma Sumac steams cha chi cha,
bison blues; for the West her story has no news.
Jerry W. Ward, Jr. March 11, 2017