The more we move forward the more
we go & become backward
Near is the time for me & perhaps for
us all, to get ready to exodus
From a very insipid & hypocritical world
that we knowingly have spoiled & mired
Soon I’ll lay my body down, for me to
kiss the ground. No more unforgiving-
people-stuff to cosset & propound
Nothing left to justify, to glorify,
to try & figure-out, & to reason why
Perhaps I’ll be remembered for some of
the better-stuff that was me. Maybe not;
little merit nor ever profound
The joy was in the doing, the creating, not
for any applause it might’ve generated
That’s the way it should’ve been & not
the other way around
For the world has grown too old to dream
& other hallucinations have taken-ground
I don’t think I want to be around when
the planet takes it’s final bow & becomes
an even biger-bang slaughter-house grind
— Ray Laccetti
Jun 6, 2019
Jun 6, 2019 at 8:20 AM UTC
The more we move forward the more
we go & become backward
Near is the time for me & perhaps for
us all, to get ready to exodus
From a very insipid & hypocritical world
that we knowingly have spoiled & mired
Soon I’ll lay my body down, for me to
kiss the ground. No more unforgiving-
people-stuff to cosset & propound
Nothing left to justify, to glorify,
to try & figure-out, & to reason why
Perhaps I’ll be remembered for some of
the better-stuff that was me. Maybe not;
little merit nor ever profound
The joy was in the doing, the creating, not
for any applause it might’ve generated
That’s the way it should’ve been & not
the other way around
For the world has grown too old to dream
& other hallucinations have taken-ground
I don’t think I want to be around when
the planet takes it’s final bow & becomes
an even biger-bang slaughter-house grind
— Ray Laccetti
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