Off the Deep End

There goes Wild Woman,

off the deep end again,

muttering to herself,

slapping herself upside the head,

clucking at the imperturbable sky,
hands to brow, distressed,
moaning "why, oh why, oh why, 
dear God, oh why?"

Another Mountie gunned down,

another dog chained outdoors at 36 below,

his beseeching face, no rescue at hand,

so much injustice -
so painful, knowing what I know.

They're shooting wolves from helicopters

to "save the caribou", who are dying 
through loss of habitat

because of us. 

The vicious cycle goes on and on,

because it always has been thus:

raping and pillaging, greed and power,

smug rationalizing, politics-speak,
a civilization in denial

while the world implodes,

hour by hour.

Wild Woman's brain goes weak
at the knees
and that's before we even talk about
the bees.
There are solutions,
that the powers that be 
refuse to seek.
The situation need not
be so impossibly bleak.

How hang onto hope,

when the  planet itself

is at the end of its rope?

The coasts will one day soon 
be washed away,

but no one acts because 
it's not happening today.

After the tears, there is nothing 
left to do

but find something to cackle about 
- or, even better, two.

for Susan's prompt at Mid Week Motif: the place humor has in my life. It is what saves me, kids.I resonate with one of the quotes accompanying this prompt: "If we couldnt laugh, we'd all go insane" by Robert Frost.

Truly, I am not as desperate as this poem indicates - my sense of humor does keep me afloat - sometimes just barely!