the march for science

being the activist that I am,
i decide to march down
Pennsylvania avenue
for earth day.
i love the earth
and no longer pour
oil down the storm drains
when working on my
four barrel carb chevy
camarro with dual exhausts
and baby moons.
I like
the sun, air, water,
and a hot pastrami sandwich
from Katz's deli in new York city,
who doesn't?
i put on my lab coat,
which is really a deli
coat, but they look almost
the same, except for the splotches
of blood and pickle juice.
I pull out my childhood
microscope from the attic
and my son's place mat periodic
table, which I make into a hat.
I wipe off an old petri dish then
tape a dead frog
to it, one that i find
on the side of the road
because of all
the rain, stepped on
by the throng of other
marchers, rabid in their pursuit
of cleaner air and soy milk,
I can see the imprint
of a wide earth
shoe on his swollen little belly.
he had a good life, and
now, this dead fat
frog will be
dedicated to this march.
to saving the earth,
he will be a martyr
for the cause.
I hold him up as we march along
the policed lined road,
chanting hell
no, we won't go
and one two three four
we don't want your stinking
war, until
someone reminds me that
those were chants from the 60's
to end the war
in Vietnam. oops, my
bad I say. it's been awhile
since I've been out here.
I press on
in the rain, holding up
my frog, his stretched out
suction cup arms and legs
taped to the petri dish.
surprisingly though he's
blinking his eyes now
and seems to be okay.
startled and confused
as most frogs are, but okay.
hold on little buddy,
I tell him,
only eight more blocks to go.