The days run ruin, unleashing raw
Resentful, sweeping hate, and men,
Lips thin with broken grins,
Rob meaning of its peculiar flaw
With words that all fall deadly on
Minds bewildered by Leviathan.
With each hued dawn the swords of ink
Post with grinding gear and knowing wink,
The holy causes of the tribe, seed
Riots, surged from itchy feet
Parading under shibboleths
Of honor, and report children’s untimely deaths.
The times are fig-ripe for the spoiling sting,
People busy singing adoration
To billion-footed gods in massed oration:
While they curse a dead God for dying.
R.M. Zaner (PhD, 1961), published eleven original books, including two books of narratives and wrote, edited eleven professional books. He wrote and presented poetry for many years, but published only several. A philosopher in several medical centers, he retired (2002) as Stahlman Professor Emeritus, Vanderbilt University.