Born of freedom, wild birds that rule the air!
Have I but a view of earth just as fair:
Of impassive mountains, of golden sand,
Of vast continents that link man to man,
Of seas their depths human eyes cannot reach,
Of beautiful islands, oh, what a treat!
Of grass stretching like a green carpet wide,
Of worms, snails that across green grass glide.
Can I but feel the playful gentle breeze
That ofttimes I see kissing leaves of trees,
That dancing in suspended gaiety
Do free some of my earthly cares from me!
To see these birds flying is ecstasy -
To think not of my inability!
Birds, fly on! my heart make light, my soul lift!
At least mankind share the joy of your gift!

In theory, the sky is falling,

Showering particles of merry madness and homespun delirium,

As we sleep in the formerly sealed
containers that kept us fresh,

But now leave us active:

Radioactive.

Actually though, this is more a soulless, weather modified masquerade,

Where we dance at funerals, drink to cloud seeding,

And play 'Guess Who?' retributions,

While locked in the closet with flight attendants left for kindling...

Our bees aren't social distancing,
As they buzz about the hive;
The ants aren't wearing masks
In their pismires, yet they thrive.

Racoons wash without soap,
Llamas spit  without remorse,
Monkeys' feces fill the air,
Dogs are crapping everywhere,
The watering holes of the Kalahari
Have larger crowds
Than political rallies.

Every insect, bird and beast,
With scale or feather, beak or teeth,
With legs or wings, bellies or fins,
Still swim or fly, walk or crawl;
We succumbed before them all.
It's back to Eden,
Back to the fall.

On my bed of rocks I lay
Under a roof
Surrounded by walls
I've made myself comfortable
In where I lay
Under covers that warm my body
I live
I breathe
I feel safe
I don't

Awake at night
Under the cover of night
In the warmth of my blankets
And whether I wish to see the moon
"What for?"
It's difficult to leave the warmth
Of the blankets that night after night
Provide me with what my body needs
With what my soul needs
And what it doesn't need

Surrounded by the silent static of my room
Encased in residual superpositioning noise
Wasting away in the lull of audio that is
Always there,
Draining away,
******* at your will to reach forward
Slowing you down...
The silence that I need at night
The comfort of it as it guides me to sleep
Intoxicating

I close my eyes to sleep
In the
Safety of my home
In
My bed
Under a roof
Surrounded by walls
I think to smile
But it doesn't feel pleasurable
Just painful

This story happened last year, last fall right before school began

Summer talk has stopped sigh - free and easy days, parties and beach trips are over. Now attention turns to the fall and the start of school and the “2019 Social Season.”

Fall begins tonight with a social (a very formal dress party) and the night ahead looms long - these are the events that, for some reason, my siblings live for shaking head - I hate them.

The British would've held this party in a garden - when they ruled the world - but we're modern man - we get the St Regis.

My two best friends aren't here tonight so I'm stuck with my "peers" - the extravagant children of rich houses - those seekers of happy times drunk with an absence of accountability - as they enjoy their metrical friendships and wander lost among forests of bad choices.

Have you ever seen people high on their own surface reflections? It's not a good look.

I see a new purse worth an economy car - honors at the feet of conceit - presented like erotica - let's all just drown in special privilege - "That'll cure racism" - I crack - to cow-like indifference.

Don't worry, my generation will save the planet - we got this.