Friday, August 1, 2008

I am a fifty-year old civil servant/poet trying to overcome a middle class upbringing. I have had one full-length book (Euclid Creek, from Deep Cleveland Press) and a few shorter-length books published, plus many more in magazines. The following is submission is of shorter poems with a futuristic slant. Thank you for your consideration.

Michael Ceraolo, 27600 Chardon Road #253, Willoughby Hills, Ohio 44092

Cloud Nine

-the code name
for the weather machine
now used as a weapon of war

Handbags and Gladrags

instead of buying items
with the designer's name on them,
for a higher price you could have
the designer's name imprinted on your skin

School Is Out

It took many centuries for the great change to take place,
but many worlds finally adapted Auden
for the educational curricula:
Thou shalt not commit a pseudo-science

Color My World

The sea remained its coat of many colors,
while on land
the gray mountains had become covered;
the white ice had gone missing;
and all had evolved into a true dichotomy:
either the lush green of the tropics
or the sere brown sands of the desert

Cortes the Killer

Earth germs did the same dirty work
on literal New Worlds
that they had done on the figurative ones


You and all your fine-feathered friends
were the Cassandras of the coming climate
unheeded until the changes were already inside the gates

-Michael Ceraolo
Thank you for your consideration.

Helpless I do not know if good intentions prevail among the elected, among the appointed, leaving me apprehensive that the fate ...