AMID MOUNTING
EVIDENCE
I was reading about
dinosaurs:
Once the scratching
phase is over, and the mirage
Or menage has begun,
and the world lies open
To the radiation
theory (tons of radiation, think of it,
Reversing all normal
procedures
So that the
pessimistic ball of wax begins
To slide down the
inclined plane again
Bringing further
concepts to their doom while encouraging
The infinity of
loose ends that
Is taking over our
government and threatening to become life
as we know it!)
It is time to slink
off to one’s post in some cold desert
(Not the Sahara,
more like the Gobi actually)
And wait amidst that
sadness known as banishment
For the point to
reappear, though it may never do so,
And what was that
strange uniform?
Only that we lived
happily in ever-after land
And the fire of my
mind was still with us then
Prevented the object
of these negotiations from becoming a
toy
Farther down the
keyboard (and of course this did happen
Later on, every
potential is realized if one waits long enough
Only by that time
the context may have faded, fragile
As summersweet or
the light on a windowsill, and then,
And then, why the
text will be seen as regular
Only no one wants to
play anymore; games
Have their fashions
much as truth does) and our lives from
Being turned into a
shambles too large to deal with,
unreasonable;
And as masonry
weathers, as moths are silently at work in
blankets
Even as you read
this, I saw no reason for complaint
Or murmur and the
entourage liked me, agreeing
With me that this
wasn’t the right time nor place,
That arguments would
be foreshortened if initiated now.
Yet this toothache
that never seems to go away.
