Bottom Of The Fourteenth Poem by James P. Roberts

Bottom Of The Fourteenth



The death toll in Iraq today
reached 10,000 American soldiers;
over one million Iraqis have been killed
since the invasion started in March of 2003.

The President, citing the current
tense nuclear crisis with China,
announced his refusal to vacate the Presidency.
Polls indicate that 62 per cent of Americans
want him to remain in office
although his term will expire in January.

Monster tornadoes, some
more than sixty miles wide have ravaged
the Amazon jungle in Brazil. Billions of trees
have been destroyed and thousands of natives
living in the jungle are feared dead.

A segment of the Ross Ice Shelf in Antarctica
larger than the state of Montana has broken off
from the main continent and is drifting northwards,
stranding personnel from British and Russian research
stations located on the shelf.

Scientists and meteorologists are unanimous
in confirming that global warming is directly responsible
for the freak weather patterns all over the world.

According to a Stanford University study,
seventy-two per cent of our children now
come from multi-parent families.
Reading proficiency in schools
has dropped to record lows
not seen since the Middle Ages.

The Prime B flu epidemic has claimed thousands
of victims along the East Coast. New York, Boston,
Philadelphia, Baltimore and Washington DC are now under
Federal Emergency Laws with federal troops blockading
all major interstates and railway lines. Airports
are closed until further notice.

NASCAR, today's version of the old Roman
chariot races, has replaced NFL football
as America's number one spectator sport.
Chablis-sipping computer geeks are fed to the lions
between races.

Next week's rare alignment of all the planets
in the solar system, plus increased sunspot activity
as a result of the supernova discovered yesterday
in the Auregia galaxy, has billions flocking
to religious sites in expectation of great wonders.

This game may be called soon
on account of darkness.
Old Double-Ought winds up
and here's the pitch.

POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
A peek into the near future? Perhaps so. Perhaps.
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