Prose Poem: Why it's a dangerous time to be an old thing in America.

 

I had an old recliner that was taken away

and shot.

Then they came for my TV trays.

I fought them over my aged

cheddar cheese --

they handcuffed me to a 

steam calliope

before squishing the cheese

under their jackboots.

Interesting fact:

circus people pronounce the word

'kal-EE-ope.'

But of course steam 

calliopes,

however you pronounce them,

are a retro-terrorist threat,

and there are now none left.

Not even in museums.

But it all came apart when

they tried to pull down the Moon.

That thing's been around billions of years.

But when the men of liberal science tried

to pull it down with radio-magnetic waves

the Moon just went into a more elliptical 

orbit --

disrupting the tides and speeding up

global warming.

Icebergs didn't melt, exactly.

Somehow the bergs got heavier and sank

to the bottom of the ocean,

crushing the krill breeding grounds.

Then they sent men up to the Moon in

rockets to nuke it. 

Boy, they really hated that old Moon

because it has seen so much tyranny,

rape, slavery, and colonialism

and has never said a peep against it.

But here's the thing --

nuclear weapons won't work on 

the Moon --

something to do with the gravity

and atmosphere.

So they erected a statue to 

Everlasting Peace,

made out of the unexploded nuclear bombs,

in the Tycho crater.  

It's a great tourist attraction.