Coarse as silk
Rotten as milk
Sour as honey
Useless as money
I only have
Love unto you

Her pitiless
prose
placed
eternity
before me.

Ancestors finger painted the first walls
- walls of shelter
a black cave where harnessed fire flickered
and made the paintings dance

Their Sun still rises
and we share their Moon

Except now Man has walked on the Moon

and is entertaining the possibility
of going to Mars

and going to Mars to search out caves
to shelter from the radiation

I wonder what will be the first painting
-perhaps a blue planet called home.

you are lost,
     as lost as the next in line
at the store.
you are trapped
      in thoughts of war, and
environmental horrors
that are to befall us all.
you want to run
       to the edge of the field,
and peel the skin from
the base of your heel & peer in,
to find the glitch,
     because something is amiss.
the arguments don't resolve,
they become a hum
   that course down walls
like rain. some of us pray,
turn to religion,
   others look to games &
science fiction, all to drown out
the thought that
  the balance of good and evil has
swung & we're
     not quite sure which side we're on.