And we would like some answers
drearily trudging
down the same stretch of road
as if trudging is the only form
of transportation
in these parts
in the form of a question, please.
It's not as if
we set the fires,
even through personal negligence
but you know
original sin
and all
and struggling just to communicate
our hunger
and deesa fur damp-tuh fee nance kree-zah
promoting us to international bums.
Welcome to the majors,
Chaldean, Italian Renaissance,
South Street after the movies,
we were conflicted but with a bright future
and if we messed that up
at least there would be a story,
I thought.
I was young.
Nature is not about balance,
and anyway
we are not natural
and your logic
and art history degree
have no parallels.
But this is just me
wondering why I feel like
waking up
that I was there for the beginning and the end
and the rest is in a footnote somewhere
and why it takes me so long to say
"I think you're cute"
and the point of a conquest
is that it is finished
and no more need be done
putting aside moral ambiguity
and realizing after thirty years that your
mood swings are perfectly correlated with changes in
indoor lighting, and maybe we're
not as deep as we once thought
and I hope that's just a momentary worry
that will fade
but just in case I'm right
I won't be jumping off any cliffs any time soon,
I promise to write
but you know what that's worth
and it's a whole new game
setting the bar so low it's underground.