Why factors
Why do the hopeless die?
Factors the programing called for,
quired first,
ere ever
were required.
(re, once more, locked in place after first.)
Why called for
reason,
why,
why do what you can't do alone
alone?
Never heard, is a discouraging word
on the range
where home was. Why not?
Nobody who came this far, carried that dis-crap
in our corazone
past Sisyphus, laughing at gravity,
and our struggle to face
eternity as mortal
hopers for more.
Discouraged folk die out here,
beyond the effect of discouraging words,
on uncloudy days, developing
negatives from
imaginations linked in to blurry, tearstained
yesterdays.
Look here.
Yes, t'day, in tight bundles of hows,
tied with memory string,
bound to be better
stood up under by
why factors helping you along.
Reason is
your heart is a phor of the amphora ilk,
round, pointed bottom meant to
easily and snuggly fit,
into a square slot on the inner hull
of the ship, below deck.
If the amphora is emptied of any earthly spoilage,
scrubbed and cleaned by the fuller apprentice,
songs come to fill it, virtually,
to over flowing,
---
trauma drama on an oceanic scale Himalaya high
suddenly
time goes
geo
logical and we are other wise,
slowly
absorbed in being able,
as our voice crys out to cain, it's okeh.
This ain't hell,
it's now.
Live or die.
The last trauma drama bit wase only the tail on this.
