Obelisk

Like a conquest
being together
is all about managing
distance.
The magnetic hum of
superficiality
and the core and anatomy
and I hate myself
for believing
that every love poem
is simply
a passing attempt by
the author to convince
the author
to believe
something he
or she
never imagined would feel
right in the core of their heart
and still does not.

A waking transgression
it is mid-morning.
I have not yet felt today
These are thoughts,
I think to myself,
but there is nothing behind them.
Am I losing you?
I've always treated opportunities
like these like
a window.
At best
at our most (childish)
optimistic
it makes for a dramatic exit
but the world in these
admittedly dull days
does not revolve around
hidden artifacts or car chases
and even if it does we have
still the same two problems, and I've lost my key.

On Knowing Too Damn Much

Instrumental,
and chambered.
The cliche:
life is options, pathways
and locked doors.
You can't have
et cetera.
And promises, well.
There's two types of people in that regard.
The sum of human knowledge:
creation is hard,
maintenance is harder.
A pipe organ,
ornamentally affixed.
Some have a purpose,
good for them,
I hope to believe one day.
Revolver-door,
well that's not an optimistic note
to end on.

Catacombs

Delving further,
blue-jeaned, and apocryphal,
suburban Dantes,
realizing they missed the
collective best (collective) years
of their lives.
The psychological study of death,
and dying.
(It's called thanatology.)
We lacked the time, incidentally.
And occidental, pacing forward
and have never
a thought to finish.
It is so important to have goals
and maybe not ideal
but practical
if they are but distance.

SDS

So here's the deal
in the greatest philosophical traditions
(black
and
white)
:
decision-making.
I've always aspired to
judge history
not by facts-
records, monuments,
Great Occurrences -
by rather by aspirations.
And with great spiritual revelation,
we can finally agree upon bitterness
in our discussions of the 60's;
they wanted things they hoped to
see realized.
What's the point?