The Red Kyoto Button


The world caresses icy newspapers

while the rainforests lament

clenches human barren dreams

evaporating in desert capitals.


The cry of hurricanes

knocks on govenment doors

delivers dead birds

for presidential terror cells.


Everywhere darkness

gloved hands that grip pretense

except for the guy in grey suit

who inside a purple light bulb

cooks up a solar dream

for sleepless monsters

eyeing a red Kyoto button

unsure whether pressing it

will blow up Kyoto Accords or the world.