Miserable Title

by Len Krisak (December 2014)

There had been signs, if only we had known.

A man said we were dining all alone.

The papers shrank from news not fit to print.

Oh yes, the papers shrank. Who took the hint?

Our pen pals failed to reach us any more.

The young had all advanced to God-knows-what,

And every proven door we tried was shut.

We’d entered on the death throes of The Book.

It was a pretty plight to which we’d come,

This cul-de-sac there’s no escaping from.

Still, on we worked, and waited for . . .  who knew?

It was the very least that we could do.

 

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