The bums have ditched their Monopoly pieces,
Top Hats, Race Cars, and Dogs- spilling
into the murky depths of frozen Great Lake.
Tiny cast iron stars sink to the bottom,
winking farewell to the Eternal Pier.
A busted toll spills its coins onto the highway.
A lone figure moves lathargically, framed in purple sky
one square at a time, careful not to crack
against the solidified earth.
A baby is born, at once shocked into consciousness
realizing it has missed it's window of warmth.
From a vista through a screen,
a woman looks out over her yard,
to the treetops; a mushroom cloud looms.
All the statues of demi gods crumble, too.
Their worshippers see the insides-
more and more rock, dug by former slaves.
They turn their backs to the pinata,
as it’s candy is gobbled up by kids,
who scramble, laughing, possesed by the Holy Spirit.