February 12, 2018 Poetry , POETRY / FICTION

DHS photo



Don Krieger




Rain and Fog



Who wrote the speech?

He struggled just to read it?

Yet he lives the loving embrace

of Mein Kampf.


Will his reign end

and will it matter?

A hundred million voted.

How many fools


trust the dark masters,

their puppeteers, or Mother Mary,

Bernie, or the Messiah?




I drove the turnpike today.

How many passed

with rifles in the trunk?

How long till I have one

and will it matter?


It rained for hours,

mist steaming off the road,

clouds hunching down,

sometimes dark,

sometimes bright as a bomb.




Click here for an audio reading of the poem





Don Krieger

I have built satellites, worked in the operating room, been in a cult, …

I earn my living as part of a group which is trying to understand and treat head injury.

In my poetry and short blog pieces, I want to express ideas with unambiguous clarity and intensity.

I willingly sacrifice rhyme and meter, art, cleverness, elegance, and beauty for these.

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