The Molossus, a
Colossus
Of
molasses, wearing
galoshes
Slouches towards
Back Bay:
This is judgement or
retribution:
The bullets vanish in the
glop,
Helicopters hover over
The
river Charles: Rockets
Only anger the creature, the boats
All scatter. The Molossus
Wades into the water,
Dissolves,
pleased to meet oblivion.
Molasses drifts to the bay.
In the morning on
Cape Cod,
The ocean will be sweet.