Saturday, November 20, 2021



 "Hell is empty and all the Devils are here." ~William Shakespeare

(a 55)
The door to
the henhouse is
always unlocked
for inside there are
only wind eggs.
The Fall 
is a tryptich:
blackness, dead hearts,
disingenuous calculations. At
the apex

of chaos we have our
no thaumaturgy created
cures corrupted

 turn the key
to lock in nothing; 
just open the door
for the foxes.
November 2021


posted for

On November 19th, 2021, Kyle Rittenhouse, 18, was acquitted of 5 counts of homicide for the August 25th 2020 murders of two men and the attempted murder of a third. The men were protesting the shooting of a black man, Jacob Blake, by a white police officer in Wisconsin. The jury ruled that Rittenhouse, who crossed state lines with an assault weapon to "protect property" not belonging to him, acted in self-defense.
wind egg: an unimpregnated, yolkless, or imperfect egg egg with a soft noncalcareous shell
decumbiture:1 obsolete : confinement to a sickbed. 2a : the time of taking to one's bed from sickness. b : a horoscope of such a decumbiture.
thaumaturgy:: the performance of miracles
Images: Photo of Door, title and author unknown, Fair Use via Sunday Muse
The Fox: Fair Game, © Alexander Pope  Public Domain


  1. Wow, does this ever pack a punch, Joy. The acquittal of Rittenhouse is so deeply discouraging. The right bleats about "rioters" and never acknowledges WHY people are angry and protesting, as if it came out thin air. Then this feckless child's mommy drives him--and his assault weapon--umpty many miles to defend the local Dollar Store or something when all he wanted was what he got: the chance to shoot people he disagrees with, and he got away scot free. Unbelievable.

    Your poem is as harsh as the verdict, but unlike the verdict, the poem is spot on. How did you know about wind eggs? From your chickens? It's a fascinating term, and ideal for the use you put it to. I had to look up "senescence". Another perfect word choice from your limitless bag of them.

    I can't help but feel that we are seeing the crumbling of our country around us. "Patriots" bent on destroying the very liberties they always caterwaul about, because in truth the only liberties they care about are their own--including the liberty to trample over the rights of others because they see them as less than, all the while righteously indignant that anyone would say we are a racist nation when we so clearly are. Well, I'll not fill up your comments with any more rant, but the whole thing just makes one want to throw up. Your poem, OTOH, is scathing, sad, and a marvel of concise writing.

    1. Thanks, Shay. This moment in time sticks in my craw, but it's one in a progression as we slide into a dissolution of democracy, justice, rational thought. Decline and fall.

    2. Bannon said right from the get-go in 2016 that this was their aim, to tear everything down. As the lady said, when someone tells you who they are, believe them.

    3. Rant on Shay, as sunsets on human dignity snd the failed experiment of unretributed free thought.

  2. This is strong with poetic truth, and like Shay said packs a punch! I also love your tag, "no intelligent life forms"....ain't that the truth!! Your closing line is deep in it's message of what is so shallow. As always I love this Joy, and the message rings loud, just the way it should!

  3. ... mere anarchy is loosed upon the world...

    55 as a carving blade.

    and to your ol' Will quote.. yep. ~

    1. Thanks, M. Anarchy and the little greedy claws of pure evil, gladly embraced, and all the other devil things like hate.

  4. The foxes are already in; they're building the henhouses district by district.

  5. Wind eggs!!!! You open the door to this poem so perfectly, and leave us wild, hunting, and burrrowed.

  6. This is strong Joy. But to paraphrase what Deckard said on roof, as Roy delivered his final words, “all we can do is watch it die! “

  7. The fox is in the henhouse and Joy is in her element .....

  8. Powerful, truthful writing, Joy. Open the doors!


"We make out of the quarrel with others, rhetoric, out of the quarrel with ourselves, poetry." ~William Butler Yeats