FRANZ DOUSKEY
MISFORTUNES OF HARMONY:
WHAT THE RIVER KNOWS
When the river sprang a leak
the Corps of Army Engineers
tried to remake its bed,
tried to cover its mouth,
but even the muddy incantations
of the snake doctor couldn’t halt
the run on the banks.
When the river crested at
forty-seven feet the Army Corps
of Engineers sent in forms in triplicate,
sent sponges the size of Yankee Stadium,
but the rain, sensing a photo opportunity,
sent whorls and swirls downstream
along with Elysian cattle and rigid catfish.
When the boats of CNN arrived the
Engineers of Army Corps said: Memories,
just like the river, empty and are
often unquenched. But the snake
doctor knew what to say: Fools,
don’t build next to the river.
When the CNN retinue scanned the
waters and saw that they had
taped enough human misery
followed by empty official explanations,
they, ever grateful, headed down river
to the next profound, unbearable disaster.
