3. Gloss of the poem "Salome"

They say to eat your peas or the children will starve in Somalia and the Sudan. Europe after the War reclaimed the booty of a million acres. So what are you going to do with the garbage after you separate the edibles from the cans? How's that for a cul-de-sac? You think if you're kind to the old lady no one speaks to it will lead to plenty for everyone-if the world doesn't blow itself up. Change one sensibility at a time. Otherwise, it's one coup d'etat after another and the heads clogging the drains. The life force of a child doesn't know the depth of its hunger. A world of playing fields from Eton to Sydney. Meanwhile, Salome is still in charge, the one we die for, as Helen sent forth ships to slaughter the sea. Everyone driving to and from work at the same time because she says to. Backed up at the turn where the homeless camp in sight of a liquor store, their rain-streaked stories written semi style by Magic Markers, telling of military service, lost leases, the crippling turns of fate visible in retreating eyes. While the old man waves at each car and says "God bless you" which he knows has already happened to those who drive past. The numbers don't come out right. I have been repeatedly astonished by the angelic dispositions of people working for the poor, the maimed, and the doomed in the most hideous of circumstances where the children die in their care. Salome is the power to change the world, if it comes to that. But you've got to drink your milk or you won't grow strong. Every childhood game and parental admonition leads you to that moment when you change your mind about who is in charge.

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