_ _ , _ _ , 2 0 1 9 is a day gone to the ashes of kismet’s pages

the midday zephyrs and wino meditations that ran through streets like rainfall now live in the hippocampus

the bright side’s gone with the dark
the whole day, for what it was, is no longer
and it bugs me out

that through any endless combo of permutations and planetary rotations, the same circumstances that built the ground of yesterday
will never repeat
or will they?

I’ll never know like the licks that reduce a Tootsie Pop to crumbs
I’m not intelligent, I’m dumb
because it took me 27 years to learn the value of 24 hours
to learn that a lotus bloom is something to treasure ten times more than scraps of pure gold

we are the children of nature
what does that make our creations?

Humans birthed a cosmos
of currencies and chambers of computer generated concoctions. . .

are they not descendants of the Mother?
In some abstract way?

Idk, dude, I’m out of it,
if you know me, you know exactly what that means - -
but I digress - -

It’s just that I never got the chance to tell the day how grateful I was to have it
and I now know that wasting time is a luxury modern civilization can enjoy after epochs and eras

this day and age is as far from perfect
as the brain is from perfection,
tech grew faster than the collective consciousness
and we still limit worth and love
to skin and heteronormativity

but at least
for a small sliver of time
things were, in a single moment
.
.
.
pretty good.