The here and now share a trait
a chortling joke of divine strain
forever lasting and still obtuse
missed by minors below that grade
dire odds are cast to tease the fool
presented by same to sooth the mind
assume that one will follow the other
even though history denies the dream

first the assumption measures the now
this clear understanding of what should be
set on foundation of shifting sand
engulfing the fantasies most closely held
this doesn’t matter when castles are mist
with bricks made of vapor consumed in the dawn
assumed to be real by twilight appeal
that realm of landscapes behind sleep’s blurred veil

the future compounds the quiet delusion
designed by the leaders with hidden agendas
not truly evil though this may be muddled
by conflicting motives of equally sad fiction
‘walk there and do that’ becomes the shared mantra
they can be same when past is confusion
splitting and merging in their collisions
each asking flesh with full committal

don’t lose your faith with my words of discernment
railing against the abuse of the soul
the jest lays outside of permission
when truth only serves the master’s whim
the less is found in this awareness
as roads are detoured for what’s more precious
with all due chances of humor’s bliss
circling from now to future’s poor fiction.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180513.