mhall46184@aol.com
Our Demographic Issues
Someday our mouldering bones will grace the walls
Of a museum’s scientific display
And little Martians will play through the halls
Ignoring us on their school’s field-trip day
Our zygomatic bones in exasperation
Attempt to roll (but, sure, cannot) because
We are extinct, a disappeared nation
Your skull and mine won’t even have jaws
And so the Beothuk on the opposite shelf
Will ask
“Well, European, are you finally over yourself?”
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