Saturday, November 9, 2013


by horace p sternwall

illustrated by roy dismas

under a blue familiar sky
polly baked a cherry pie
the farmhands fell down in a coma
overcome by its aroma

through the fields the effluvia spread
the hands fell down as if struck dead
and through the corn rows, stern as sin
john the baptist came again

john, cried polly, half in fright
why are you here before midnight?
the end approaches, john replied
and i am just along for the ride

dark clouds appeared like flying banners
but polly did not forget her manners
she kept her wits as she was able
and asked john to sit at the table

in a calm collected state
she put some pie upon a plate
and poured a glass of orange juice
for catastrophe was no excuse

john tentatively took a sip
outside in the apocalypse
the sky had turned to darkest night
and demons howled in rare delight

as prophesied in ancient screed
the fearful four on flaming steeds
filled the horizon from side to side
the gates of hell were opened wide

from duty polly did not swerve
she thought a cup of tea might serve
before the world was finally gone
polly put the kettle on

before the water she could pour
the pale rider came through the door
no time for lengthy lamentations
or exculpatory explanations

"john, it was so nice knowing you"
"polly, i really liked you too"
then death, with a knowing glance so sly
finished off the cherry pie

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