An Abyss of Ills

A common proverbial
Phrase in the time of Sappho
And Alcaeus, Alcaeus

Himself, in fact, using it
In his verse, feeling betrayed
By an ally turned tyrant—

That such a phrase should have been
In common usage thousands
Of years ago, doesn’t it

Work on you like a flywheel
To know? If you’re way too prone
To think in terms of progress,

The persistence of despair
Millenniums dampens that.
If you’re expecting the end

Of all civilization
In today’s abyss of ills,
Some anxiety’s absorbed.

Trust Would Be the New Game We Could Explore

It would be a lovely plague,

Even if it killed the race

Of those who cooperate,

If we replaced all the teams,

The maneuverings, the schemes,

With one dream of well being.

Everyone sick in the head

Would be innocent of dread,

Helplessly trusting instead.

No exceptions, everyone,

Even the grifters, no one

Conniving under the sun,

No one caring to keep score.

Engineer that fungal spore.

Forever Unfinished Monster Done

Mathematically, the past
Might be no more than a spectrum
Of possibilities, but we

Have non-mathematical plans
For the spectral this afternoon.
The past is a growth that can’t stop

Growing, with any awareness
Riding along like a petal
Clinging to the branch that birthed it,

While most of the tree’s lost to sight.
Ignorance and limitation
Mean that the unknown’s a spectrum

Of possibilities, but past
In the sense of done’s a monster.

Mother Said That If You Believed the Radio, the Planet Would Have Disappeared a Long Time Ago

The sad thing is that horrible things
Happening are never signs the world
Is ending, only signs the world is
Continuing to be the known world.