The Rest of the Iceberg

We'll emit
Through extravagant antennae
We'll sit
Stare through iridescent red eyes

And we'll gloat.

We'll breathe rarefied air
As we spew, spew, spew

And we'll gloat.

Impatiently, wait for the stranded polar bear
Horizon hovers
Disease prone and ridden
Pleading louder, as our hour draws near

Creations' reward is knowing
Our redemption is at hand
Her hips are moving
She's hot . . .
And finding Her rhythm

Fire and ice
Dance and grind
Dance of the Ages
Our redemption
Her dance
Fire and ice
Grind our toxins away.

__Peter Riordan April 2012              

Photo Credit: Carla Lombardo Ehrlich