OCTOBER POEM The dark is rising, but it always has Been an upstart, just because Thatās what darkness does. We have the horizon to focus on, That way the high Beaufort Wonāt render us sick, again. Grip your ice pick, prepare To wrestle on the ice. Fittest Survive, the rest get locked down In the sinking feeling part of town. Shoulder your Winchester, We all require level action now, Now that lever-repeating guns Are everywhere. Smell the cinders Blocking the daily air. Winter arrives Like the apologetic ticket collector Who knows you donāt carry one, Will have to nudge you off the train. Letās face it, youāll hold on, Somehow, tethered to the caboose, With a leather noose. Reveal Your shining scalpels, doctors Of the new strange constraints, Begin to cut and tear at whatās wrong; Itās never light, and the moneyās gone, But thereās more of us than them, And we can sor...
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