by Darryl Price
Oh We'll Be Beastly
for the time being.
No one knows when the
final death dart will
come. We only know
that it's already
out there pointing around
for us. They glare
at us dancing so
crazy and so sweet and
it just about unhinges
their broken down
hearts. But we should be
true to the given
moment,too. As children
we can choose within
the moistened bubble
to enjoy the
mixing colors of
our own destruction
by the simple air
we breathe. Some don't have
even that small privilege.
They start out
surrounded by bullets.
Anyway we've still
got each other in
the same picture for
now. We can't help it.
The Damned Day Doesn't Even Begin to Take Care of Itself
Unless you mean it burns on and on by its own juicy fats.
And what do you care? That's just an annoying cultural sound
Bite meant to keep the paranoid listeners from discovering
Anything new about air. They listen to every little
Thing. They actually think it will ultimately tell
Them something they don't already know. And of course there are always
Strange new sounds coming out of the most unlikely of distant
Planets. You can't concern yourself with that.Atoms everywhere
Have a right to buzz brightly to the many wet suns that continuously
Soak them. You've got to breathe, to dream. Let them listen to your dreams.
See where that gets them.Maybe that might wake them up a little to something besides fear of the unknown. Isn't that
The height of silly irony? You dream, they waken. They'll claim
The dream as their own in the end. Or worst case scenario
Use them to destroy you in the name of some patriotic
War space of their own sorry making. But we can't stop looking
For the comfortable nest again,the prophesized and unexplained
And beautiful noisemakers of the future present. Because
They alone turn a key in us that didn't even know
It had a lock. All I'm saying is keep your eyes and ears open.
Whatever you put in a box begins to rot inside,inside
You.Lock or no lock we've got to spring this thing. Keep a leg out.
All rights reserved.
It's no good having just the envelope or just the stamp. To have both is to have motion,which is to dance. And to dance of course is to write your presence upon the moment. The sad thing is you can't repeat it exactly. So a poet tries one more time to write it in such a way that it can be operated again by the right hands,it has the potential to delight,perhaps,but more likely to simply remind others that life is in progress always.