Tuesday, August 1, 2017

TO SOMEONE WHO'S NOT LISTENING

Face it—to us, the poor-
in-spirit,
hustling the inexhaustibly
mundane

out here on the street,
a motorcade
is just plain in-
convenient.

It's a sheer waste
of resources. It must be
difficult for you
now to remember, but

present and future
are hardly
the same
thing to the living.

And your life
was never
a deliberate procession;
if anything it was

a heedless river,
an idiotic spectacle
which began
in babbling words,

but which always
seemed to surge,
down the throat
of the present moment,

not forward,
but back—and downward,
toward some ancient ocean of
indescribable music.

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