Seagulls swoop in from a rumored coast,
tropical storms rock small pebbles in Ohio.
It is the season to be watching other's
batten down and endeavor not to drown.
Of course the odd hurricane
may pounce upon us
but by and large we are indifferent.
There is much talk of foreign wars
in Midwest bistro's,
but we suffer only from the daily news.
Atomic annihilations
are not any part of our conversations,
though we do dig deep shelters
in our restless dreams.
The seagulls are getting fat
from the rinds & crumbs
of our bacon sandwiches;
they may never fly away now.
The leaves will fall this Autumn
but nothing much is in a hurry
so no worry.
iPhone Maniacs
crankshaft tendencies secure a brace of sly meatballs
truth daggers entice the worm girls with petite pastas
creature lilacs uproot themselves for pink dippity-do gels
white nylon ghost legs roam outer space in latex leotards
metacarpal syringes find porous outcries in the gloaming
crankshaft tendencies welcome the tilted exonerations
iPhone maniacs fondle frothing bananas mindlessly now
demon spiders ooze inside the crawlspaces wanting meat
cross-eyed priestesses suck on wax candles in the vestibule
black-robed choirs sing hangover music to the dribbling
rock music annihilations played by stoned dudes in shades
temples and taverns shake as the truth daggers hit earth
now the worm girls are dancing with the iPhone maniacs
only things grown in the ground remain
but mismatched without the hand of man
see that they dodge beautiful
their languishing longitudinal vegetable bodies
never suffer fracture the stems with fruits
and their armor and weapons, bark and branches
trees
no, I didn't think our past was decent
humans
if you ask me about those days of debauchery
we were building ourselves up like the men we now are
with wars and ironworks asps vertices vortices cusps
and it was discovered that it is easy to be reborn another
improvement is advisable
there is only one exit after a wall called brain
then the field we learned to cultivate
now this is what we are having mastered cultivation
homunculi like scattered tares sprouting without end
the power of some being the downfall of others
history built with annihilations
and then the progress
the home appliances
microwave TV freezer wire and electricity
then bytes and bits
now nanoeverything
tomorrow AI and nothing more.
In the world of today everything’s painted grey
Our past had been behind us, oh but no not today
Do this, do that, it’s what they say
Right up front the past lives painfully displayed
It has begun, the segregation of you and me
We are pulled apart by those who deem
Our separation, we’re pulled apart like thread from the strings
Their whispers on air, our pasts declared
A denial to our future, what fruit does this bare
Our future is dark, stocked full of hate
Sorrow and Regret, the only things we ever create
In the world of today, is it joy that’s been made
Happiness for the destruction, the annihilations we’ve displayed
The pain you’ve created, the destroyer of all
To hate, to fear which one belongs
Your past is not the only to whom matter
Your interpretation of lives past, brought down, shattered
lives destroyed in just a day
When someone says “The Past Must Pay”
It’s brought before us tattered, dismayed
The past is behind us that’s where it should stay
Our future could be bright, but everyone beware
Love and sensitivity, our evidence, our burden to bear-
03/08/2021
There is Nothing to Say About It
There is nothing to say about it
No words to describe it at all
There are no words at all to describe
the mass slaughter of innocents,
the relentless malignant progressions of
the evil black-moving cloud of terminations,
the toxic metastasizing ooze of outright annihilations,
the blood-gurgling regurgitations, and
the blood-spurting decapitations.
There is nothing to say about it.
Nothing to say at all.
No words to describe
the hopeless piercing cries of the infidels
the whimpering terrified pleadings of the condemned
the silent gasping inhalations of the dying
There is nothing to say about it.
No words to describe it at all!
My heart at 62 years has not seen anything like this at all!
Never anything like this at all!
I have not seen this outrageous slaughter before at all!
There is nothing to say, except…
These are the days!
The days of this unkind hour;
the days before the great onslaught!
Before this massive earthly descent to the lowest places,
the smelly dank places,
the rotting miasma of the dead places.
There are no words to describe it!
There is nothing to say at all!