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North American Dreaming: Running Like Lemmings

William Burkholder’s poem highlights the madness of many a life.

We run like lemmings,
hell bent for pleasure.
running towards an open abyss

Craning and clawing,
panting and pawing,
wanting to be acknowledged for this

My course is the same, running with the pack, falling, tumbling, hearing the crack
Of my bones,
as they smash on the ground.

Hell bent for pleasure,
ignoring our leisure, out of breath,
I lay screaming,
Dieing in a ditch,
who's ramparts,
keep me hidden from view,

My ego,
my pride,
had led me thus far,
to this early and terrible demise.

Running like lemmings,
hell bent for pleasure,
running towards and open abyss.


Do please visit Troubadour21 magazine which Bill co-edits


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