THE MACY'S DAY PARADE
WAS NEVER LIKE THIS

It is Thanksgiving 2004,          and somewhere glaciers are melting                       along with the Snows of Kilimanjaro,                              while genocide proceeds apace in Darfur,                  and a pandemic flu begins            to boil in the cell of a chicken roosting in a hamlet in southern Vietnam,        a bird whose spindly legs cannot possibly    bridge the chasm of trade deficits                 and consumer credit opening      beneath us, into which jobs, pensions,           whole futures will slide until                  our Grand Canyon of denial                          nearly fills. It is Thanksgiving 2004, a          delicious meal, then the worst  stomach ache ever, my entire             world on the carving board. November 26, 2004                                    

All written material © Bill Schechter, 2016
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