Globe

My globe is wrong
Neatly tilted with
Everything in its
Place solid now
No ripples in the
Ocean no crawling
Things and most
Notably no wind
Scarred with arcane
bits of Zimbabwe
U.S.S.R. (C.C.C.P.)
Elm Street and Tibet

My globe does not
Move the daily
Track of the sun
A fixed spotlight
On the birthplaces
Of Kunks, Vus
And Davidovas
Living now in the
Shady Twilight of
California unable
To return to thier
Countries that no
Longer exist