Agamemnon Never Had It So Good
Agamemnon Never Had It So Good
The creeping crabgrass sprouts…
And in a malaise of malcontent challenges the
wafting, drafting hydrocarbons.
A lawn of moldering green cadavers.
Mercury, mercury, everywhere, and not a drop
to drink.
The salmon croaks. the sardine croaks, the crimson
crawdad croaks, even the warted frog croaks.
But do crooks croak? Nay!
O, justice, thou art not blind —
a bit deaf maybe — but not blind!
All that is left are saltines and brushed suede.
Thus we reach Armageddon.
—Zumwalt (late 1970s?)
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