because history is stubborn & unkind &
because our urns & gravesites grow hungry &
because we make love in the crosshairs of missiles &
because the sun grows angry teeth &
because the wrath is bellicose & the power of
the very few remains smug within its shell &
because the eyes of the very many refuse to open
& because i report to you today the bombing of my memory
& because today there are no ancient faces & the builders
of bronze & stone have lost their legacy &
today the trees come back to haunt us in their printed hands &
today out of respect for my sanity i withdraw my gaze
upon the Big Picture &
because the angels have gone crazy &
time capsules are fueled by their own feral shadows &
because the human soul remains still eager beneath
the avalanche &
i hold to baby’s little toe as if it were god’s &
the human infant remains whole within its yearning
& because i refuse to accept the principles of doubt
& because i resist baring my flesh to the claws of
my personal prophecies &
your personal prophecies &
their personal prophecies
i leave these words to you.
This article appears in April 2016.
