dedicated to the others of you, out there.
Listen, dear brothers, we are
a strange bald ape,
not much more than a
babbling boney lung fish,
living in a mud-brick world of
make believe and cognitive echoes,
the result of an even number
and a spiral
and a vicarious fetish for
binary pairs.
Witness, sisters, that we do not beat the sword
and shape the plow because
community was ransacked like the fall of
Troy,
by trickery,
and forged into harsh societal constructs.
But this age was foretold
and retold.
Muffled prophets cry out and tell of a time,
when we will no longer say to each other, "know..."
I say the time has come when we must know
that the manufactured hydrogen flash
is a sickening sight,
no less so than the burnt shadows of civilized life.
In a previous century, three shouted various
perverted truths from the region
West of the Elbe; but all we heard was the promise
of Dear Brother Adam, crying out from the depths
of the white noise wilderness of insomnia,
"Show me a 'cure' for the evils of modernity
and I'll sell it to you for $19.95
on early morning TV."
Living life in the rear-view, and thus, not seeing
the high beams, ahead...
Charge forth, post-postmodern fighters,
into the 21st Century with eyes looking through that novel glass.
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