Authors of the Millennium

By Paul A. Toth

January 8, 2006 ✍ Poetry poem unrhymed

Bottles and bottles
of purified water
were stacked in the back
by our friends' laundry machine;
Y2K was A-OK.
The tree twinkled;
Jesus gets a month,
the world a day.
Little did we know
a terrorist plot
had been hatched
like Easter eggs,
but that, too,
was cracked.
The world failed to end:
no battle in Megiddo;
no Aryan uprising;
no sunny-side-down UFOs.
There would be no reprieve
from the average New Year's Eve,
only
     a disappointed desire
     that something awful happen,
     if that is all:
     author, author?

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