Soldiering On Poem by Percy Dovetonsils

It's midnight
December 31st;
the park down the street
is exploding.

It's the 4th of July
on New Year's Eve
and the neighborhood shock troops
are conducting
an all out
assault

on 2018,
which promises to be
even crazier and
more corrupt
than 2017.

We wish we could retreat
to a good year,
a past year,
but which
would that be?

We might as well
stop dragging our feet
and screaming
and march
resolutely forth
into the jaws
of the future.