Transmissions from the Northern Outpost

Here is another poem written in the 5 o’clock hour of the morning, this morning. As always, this poem is best read in desktop or landscape mode to preserve the line breaks how I intended. Referenced with the title and the last line is William Butler Yeats’ famous poem “The Second Coming.”

Towards Bethlehem 

The birds are aggressive this morning.
Forty buses from Canada aren’t coming
to our small-town tourist mecca for
the next four years. They know what is
impending. What storms may produce
today. Might as well chirp now, rat-a-tap
while the chirping, rat-a-tapping is good:
We won’t be heard over the thunderclap, 
they say. Or will we? The wind chimes
from the neighbor’s porch are still heard
amidst the patter. Our voices not silenced,
in the background while we try to sleep:
The stuff dreams are made of. Nightmare 
scenario of another rough beast slouching.