When the surf turns to galloping steeds
thundering up and down the beach,
their pounding hooves throwing clots
of sand skyward, sending sunbathers
and families swollen with children
scurrying scared to their shiny cars,
when the arms of night are filled
with predatory birds who have
developed a taste for human flesh,
perched on church steeples, capitol
domes, mail boxes, parking meters,
awaiting those who prove unwary
enough to venture into the dark,
when trees from pole to pole and
continent to continent kamikaze
themselves on power lines and
pipelines, roadways and railway
tracks, leaving us shivering or
sweltering in our four walls,
when locusts swarm, plagues
thrive and mutate, typhoons
wail, oceans rise and overflow,
when nuclear reactors meltdown,
plastering the landscape with
a storm of radioactive debris,
when the Net collapses, virused
to oblivion, never to rise again,
when the Four Horsemen of
the Apocalypse come riding
out of the clouds, their ghastly
skulls bared and grinning,
scythes and swords flashing,
then at last we understand
that Earth has had its fill of
profligate madness and our
turn at the wheel has passed.
(Appeared in HWA Poetry Showcase, 2016)
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