Monday, January 1

Sonnet for the New Year

Pleistocene campfires flickering in the distance, deeply
rooted slogans chat it up with money barons. Medical
malpractice suits us just fine, thank you very much.
For instance, well-delivered apologies salve all wounds.

Partial reconciliations break step when crossing a bridge,
miraculous transformations no longer expected or offered.
Higher disease rates unrelated to education or health costs
speak volumes to our well-tuned ears. Biology urges us

to seek out music in the company of other people. Yahweh
and other loud cellphone talkers gather to break bread to-
gether, airwaves atremble with salutations, with greetings.
On everyone's lips, prospects for reelection, for theatrical

productions that do not close in a month or less. And soon,
all spats aside, someone texts us a toast, and all follow suit.