they’re not making tinderboxes anymore/o well not as many as in years of yore

but we do not have a dwindling

of a huge supply of kindling

in the form of fissile weaponry in store

we never’ve really had a peace on earth/and of enlightenment there is a dearth

but december thirty-first

will see fireworked missiles burst

since we all still live & breathe for all we’re worth

and saith the preacher let us feast & drink/after all our time on earth is but a blink

and throughout our raddled history

there’ve been cliffs and here’s the mystery

we have always muddled past them don’t youAAAAAaaaaa a a a a…..

Happy New Year, Friends, especially to those of you who keep Doom from devouring us all. Here’s hoping that the coming years bring a hard-won maturity to our efforts, and that we the people of this globular starship stop making deadly, life-ending contraptions that perpetuate conflict and hinder our attainment of the Peace On Earth we all so passionately desire.

Personal note: I am ending 2024 having written at least one poem or quasi-poem or fable or reflection every single day since July 25th, making 160 consecutive days. Doing so helped me understand what it would be like to be the mythical Sheherazade, weaving word-nets nightly under penalty of death. Here is a link to that story about storytelling.

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Scheherazade