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Roman Candles


by Samuel Derrick Rosen


The Earth screeches  Surrender longing, surrender wishing
and we are dead  There is comfort somewhere
Do we fight to the final gasp?  Do we want to

stare at the stars from gutters?  The sun is drained,
of its courage, its energy, and as a result, must fail to rise.
We wish to speak, but cannot, we are pale and thin,

blind to resurrection  In the mean time, we write
scarlet letters to the moon  But O, as long as the heart beats
ice is mutable  Progress depends on us  We, the unreasonable

We were different yesterday  We'll be different tomorrow
We love the mad ones because we ourselves are mad,
exploding roman candles across the webs of the indefinable,

the what is, and the not at all, the inconsolable morass,
the impossible swamp, the something more than parlour tricks,
what we know we cannot know  We wander but are not lost,

moving toward the same thing from which we move away,
we are not narcissists, we do not pity ourselves, logic is nothing
We are determined to live and hope we shall arrive soon.
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