The Great Depressions of our time
are medical conditions – apply, declined
like the verbs we learn in grammar school:
beaten beats the beating heart. True,
we hold our breaths in suspense
as bridges cross the oceaned expanse
that separates, connects us all.
And we're still waiting for it to be fall,
another tragedy for God's great nation
as we're assured of our destination –
it starts with He, ends with double hockey-sticks,
with vast nothingness between – call it The Styx.