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This writing was accepted for publication in the
108 page perfect-bound ISSN# / ISBN# issue/book

the New World
cc&d, v271 (the May 2017 issue)

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the New World

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Nothing
Lasts

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May-August 2017
collection book
Nothing Lasts cc&d collectoin book get the 4 page
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cc&d magazine
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Negative Space
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The inmates are naked and howling

Michael D. Jones

The inmates are naked in the asylum.
Naked except for the truth—
or at least the truth as they see it.
Sure, they wear their Wrangler jeans,
Their Tony Lamas and their Stetsons...
and maybe a pistol on the hip,
since a gun is no longer just a weapon;
it’s an appurtenance, and it reveals
the naked truth of the soul.

They’re putting sandbags around the dayroom now,
stockpiling freeze-dried rations and ammunition,
preparing for martial law as Jade Helm 15 gets underway.
Thank God the Guv’ner has the Guard keeping tabs on things,
and that Senator Cruz is looking into it.

But Obama will be coming for our guns—
We know because we have an inside line
on things the liberal media won’t report.
UN troops are massing in a network of underground tunnels,
dug by nuclear-powered, high-speed boring machines,
and they will emerge soon, like fire ants,
from strategically-placed Walmart locations
throughout the country.

Hush! Don’t listen to the orderlies!
They’re in on the plot.

Oh, I know I should be more careful.
I walk around the asylum
in only my slippers
and a robe.

It’s risky...
I need to keep that robe closed, for sure.
One misstep, one wrong pose,
and I might reveal a bit too much.

If I want to fit in, I should
slather myself in war paint,
drape myself in the flag,
stomp around in cowboy boots
and shout the name of Jesus.
Around here, they think eternity
spins on a myth, and I’m
the one who’s crazy not to believe it.

I’m an oddball,
Naked except for my robe,
but we all laugh at the lunatics
who rock alone in a corner.
Derangement comes by degrees,
and there’s always somebody worse off,
So, comparatively speaking,
none of us here is truly crazy.

But an awful lot of people here
can’t walk the grounds
without boots,
to stomp through the brambles,
or a pistol,
to kill the snakes they see
slithering on the on the lawn.



Scars Publications


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