By Randy Ai
Every night I see visions of Dow Jones
The fire in my eyes burn like
Little red and white candlesticks
That move up and down
Scorching the sky with morning stars and evening stars
Supporting my hopes like a shooting star
Blazing passed all resistance
Soon the entire sky is set ablaze
Clouds turn blood-red with flames
The angels claw for breath
Their trumpets blaring
Warning the world that the end is near
And when all life on earth
Is vanquished beyond a trace
One lone serpent slithers His way to Bethlehem
His long two-dimensional body
Forming peaks and valleys as he moves
Finally he ascends to heaven
His body raining gold coins down onto the world
If any of the village children were still alive
They could gather and collect the trickles
In their baskets
Saturday, April 5, 2014
Friday, April 4, 2014
Driving on a snowy evening
by Randy Ai
A family man sits alone in the driver's seat.
His anger simmering. His eyes are crazed.
His pride shaken by the burden of debt.
His savings stolen by the banks and insurance companies
Leaving him with only the bitter aftertaste of betrayal.
The winds of the unforgiving world howl.
His hands grip the steering wheel of a car that he can no longer afford.
He knows that faceless men will soon come and take away all that is dear to him.
His house will be sold to the highest bidder.
His family will be broken.
His life will be shattered.
He holds on to his former life... for one last second before the plunge.
His preparations have been meticulous.
The front bumper of his car fitted with blades and saws
Sharp enough to tear through flesh and bone.
The engine roars as he presses his foot deeply against the accelerator.
The car races forward in one last suicidal charge into the heart of the City's financial district.
Men and women in suits look on in horror, as he rams into them and tears them apart.
More than a dozen bankers and insurance agents lie dead
Before the police finally shoot him.
His funeral is held in a small park at the edge of the City
Quietly tucked away from the much larger funeral held for his victims.
Afterwards, his family files a claim
Under his policy of insurance.
They successfully collect on his life insurance.
They also make a claim for damages to his car.
A family man sits alone in the driver's seat.
His anger simmering. His eyes are crazed.
His pride shaken by the burden of debt.
His savings stolen by the banks and insurance companies
Leaving him with only the bitter aftertaste of betrayal.
The winds of the unforgiving world howl.
His hands grip the steering wheel of a car that he can no longer afford.
He knows that faceless men will soon come and take away all that is dear to him.
His house will be sold to the highest bidder.
His family will be broken.
His life will be shattered.
He holds on to his former life... for one last second before the plunge.
His preparations have been meticulous.
The front bumper of his car fitted with blades and saws
Sharp enough to tear through flesh and bone.
The engine roars as he presses his foot deeply against the accelerator.
The car races forward in one last suicidal charge into the heart of the City's financial district.
Men and women in suits look on in horror, as he rams into them and tears them apart.
More than a dozen bankers and insurance agents lie dead
Before the police finally shoot him.
His funeral is held in a small park at the edge of the City
Quietly tucked away from the much larger funeral held for his victims.
Afterwards, his family files a claim
Under his policy of insurance.
They successfully collect on his life insurance.
They also make a claim for damages to his car.
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