They take themselves
To the twist in the road.

On the other side
Of the twist
Underneath the nihilistic sun,
Beneath the unintrigued ground,
Stands their family.

Science grins and tells them to make belief
Out of nothing;
For love and for sentimental reason
Is the trickery of comfort and
Of death.

They hesitate
For they have brains,
Not in the intellectual sense
But in the primitive.

The snake
The lion
The river's rapids
The mountains thin air
The snows cold snap
Knowing full well what it was after
Told them - hesitation is survival.

Instead, they stay inside.
They stare at walls and discuss.

Genetic engineering with deaf ears
And phosphorous golden sunlight
Bleeding through need-to-be-dusty windows
In the morning, the afternoon, at dusk, and at night.

They dance alone.
Forces that be - natural and not -
Have instilled a trigger
In them they dare not risk snap.

Now, they think, is now the time to rebel?
Against what?
Against who?
Against everything for the sake of freedom
Or life
For the sake of everything that is freedom?

A scream of hysterical hopelessness
Eludes a million and some ears.

This will be our great reckoning
And no,
The water will not recede.
There are too many dams
Already in place.

The thought of natural thought,
Now up for debate,

Merely shows

They were never at the fork in the road

In the first place.

Before its too late
Tie the bow on the Christmas
Present
And see about the back gate.

We're getting old
As we're getting young
And we know
Every song today
Will not be
A song sung.

Before its too late
Tell grandma
She convinced you
Love wasn't real.
Wasn't her fault son. It was theirs and
Their far off war with no guarantee
For sovereignty.

Before its too late
Whisper nothings at nothing
And play tricks on the dark
For once.
Make believe with belief
Because they're always telling us
What to hope for
As if they know the future.

Before its too late
Make the bed and fluff the pillow;
Do the dishes twice as the time tells mice
Whiskers and forever tweakers;
Sweep the floors forever
So we as one and neither
Can skip marry lou to a lost forest
For two plus two.

Before its too late
Learn guitar and how to howl.
It's midnight yesterday
And you should know how to do
How to do by two day from today.
We are our own trials and failures, and yet
We are still so beautiful.

Before its too late,
Strive to writhe with the struggle of the poem.
Dragonflies dance between
The consonants of madmen and madwoman
Whose muses know no patience
Or constructs of etiquette.
They come barefoot and naked or robed
And cast in the moonlight when they want
As they want for whatever they want; pirates
Of lore and violence.

Before its too late,
Do not fear.

Before its too late,
Adventure.

Before its too late,
Drink from the fountain and
Smile at strangers and
Shake your fists and their cousin moon and sky.
Break loose for thy noose
Is held by no other hand

But thine own.

There is the night,
There is the day.

I used
To know
The difference.

The difference
Used me,
Now I know.

Time
Tells
Me
I exist
But
Not how to exist
Within
It.

For time is it,
A linear construct
Of undeniable
A to B.

I have no exclamation
Of exhaustion or annoyance.

I am not young,
So I know,
No one is listening
Besides me.

Perchance perspective
In Missoula or perhaps
Somewhere in ancient Greece
Where the sounds still permeate
Within the rubble

(I can hear it)

Will turn the sphere
As it were.

I see the night
I see the day
I see

So I must believe

Or go

Utterly mad

In conspiracy.