Trouble Everywhere
By Joe Crandall
The paper reports trouble everywhere,
Middle East, Delaware, sliding headfirst
Toward disaster. Planes in the air
Almost collide. Bubble burst
And you and I in debt, mon cher,
The kids’ music makes us despair
For them. Our pension fund is cursed
And we may soon be living on angel hair and liverwurst.
And yet our old romance perseveres,
A casual flirtation that grew zealous
Just like the climbing roses we planted years
Ago have almost overwhelmed the trellis.
Darling, when you look me in the eye
And smile, those clouds just roll on by.
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