You know what you are doing is wrong...
She’s sitting right there
On your shoulder
In your gut
You hear her voice speaking to you
It is your voice too
And yet you choose to ignore her
to explain away
Or choose not to listen to
Mock, belittle, chide, deny
Cause…cause it’s just too rich
This way, just now, too fun
Too gooood
As you consume
Maybe the last ounce, perhaps the last morsel, surely the last drop
I’ve got a good reason, you explain
I’ll do better next season, the common refrain
I’ll beg for forgiveness, plead ignorance
Throw myself on the mercy of the jury
Yet all the while we all know that the laws of physics
Are strictly enforced
Every moment, each day
And that greed is the seed
That will bear the bitter fruit
And take away all the misbegotten
Gain
And then some.
A poem
Attempts to make meaning with
Words which have meaning
Arbitrarily assign from ancient realities
Dusty dictionaries
Do we agree on what each word means
Are we constructing a new reality
Explaining the past
Planning the future
Signing our signatures
Declaring our uniqueness
At the expense of our unity?
Perhaps even a single
word
Is too much
Too big
Too many threads
Woven into some fabric
Tying us back and back
But not connecting
Burdening us with this malicious gift
To make meaning
But not to be it.
When we were young and not so wise
We put quick sliver in our eyes
We siphoned gas with tube and mouth
And burned coal to ash
Then spread it out
Black lunged miners for us did toiled
We buried trash in earth’s sweet soil
We mixed our waste in water pure
It’s out there still I know for sure
So before we reach that final day
Perhaps we’ll find another way?
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