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Weapons of Mass Distraction

2009 March 28
by Anne Heraghty

We bring our children to the cocktail hour

with a battalion of toys—

blocks, books, board games, binoculars.

We want things to keep them occupied

so there will be opportunity to talk.

They play quietly on the floor near the fireplace,

orange glow on soft cheeks.

We sip sweet manhattans,

nibble herbed chevre on toast points,

discuss the charm of our new president and how

he will make American life more dignified.

There is debate about remodeling,

a battery of opinions on music,

strategically planned trips and a recent

version of Macbeth on stage.

Children hold camp as we retreat

further into banality, a jungle

of language our only defense

against the stealth determination of Death,

who waits to ambush us all.


2 Responses leave one →
  1. March 29, 2009

    A favorite writer of mine, Hollis Summers, once said “A poem is everything I know about being alive.” I can say that this is one of the only statements I have ever really needed to explain poetry to myself and sometimes to others. For this poem, I believe it fits. Your poem brings awareness to me of the everyday, and how looking closely always brings the eternal into focus. Keep ’em comin.

  2. April 26, 2010

    thank you, brother!

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