That rumbling in the distance,
that shuddering in the air,
just the wind maybe or the shadows 
but I don't think so
something's coming
you can feel it
you can hear it
the flares in the sun
those tides on the beach
that trembling under our feet,
the clock hands spinning round
and round, the newspapers
blowing down and down
that night train that freight train
a hundred boxcars long 
barreling toward us through 
the moonless desert night
down this godforsaken 
dead-end street. 

What's in those boxcars, I wonder,
what are they bringing where? 
Total devastation, the
end of life as we know it?
Or the simplest of all
the hardest to reach 
just the basics please the
fundamentals 
a sunny afternoon
picnic on a blanket,
biting into a ripe peach,
the greenness of the trees,
the kids rolling in the weeds, 
homes to live in
healthy food to eat
schools, doctors 
a little spending money
and time precious time.

At moments such as these, 
when epochs end and begin, 
they say a crack 
opens between worlds,
just for an instant,
then quickly shuts again.

Seize the instant.
Regime change now.