Charles Simic has become the new poet laureate for the United States.
Here is a poem of his from a recent issue of the New Yorker:
Minister of our coming doom, preaching
on the car radio, how right
your hell and damnation sound to me
as I travel these small, bleak roads
thinking of the mailman's son
the Army sent back in a sealed coffin.
His house is around the next turn.
A forlorn mutt sits in the yard
waiting for someone to come home.
I can see the tv is on in the living room,
canned laughter in the empty house
like the sound of beer cans tied to a hearse.