They call me Milton

Testo:

© Grathy
Milton
Vocals and lyrics by Mary McGrath
Copyright medium.com 10/10/24
All rights reserved


Milton, with his mighty hand
points his greedy fingers
toward Florida,

Eager to grab us
into his massive fist
and squeeze until we bleed.

Out of the darkness
we wait, suspended,
as his wind begins to whisper,
until he starts breathing hard,

Inhale, exhale,
gathering strength
and then he howls,
laughing and whistling
through the trees and eaves of
our state, wheezing from exhaustion.

The palms flap back and forth,
“I told you so,” they say
as they break and fly
while we watch the eye go by
staring as he tries to decide
which town to devour next.

Hungry, he touches down
churning through towns
leaving splinters
floating on the water
like broken toothpicks,

As another city
is flattened
and whipped into submission,

I see how small
we are as nature scolds us
for our greedy ways,
and how he will always win.