© July 20, 2008 by Norman Stolpe
I no longer ride the roller coasters.
The speed once thrilled me as long as my head
did not bang, jerk or spin. As a flyer
simulating soaring, I envied birds.
But even in my youth, I never grasped
fear as entertainment. Amusement park
haunted houses, horror movies – the last
places I’d ever sought to strike a spark.
No crime, nor war, neither eco-crisis –
pandering to voters’ relentless fears –
quiver my lip, tremble my hand, waver
my voice. I do not share their angry fears.
Human help is worthless. In God I trust.
What can mere mortals do to me? I rest.
