Today, a day that makes very little sense,
like America,
in clear disarray
everything’s getting worse.
—John Ashbery
Could this be the destruction that I have so
forcefully dreamt of all these years? Wishing,
hoping. Sorry, kiddos, but I’ve no kink for the
end of times, do you? I see a few hands. Open
your personal time machines and look at your
day in history for today. Our lives are so
accessible that at any given moment we
can find our trajectory and plot a different
course if we are unsatisfied or keep that
vector’s gradient rising if we’re feeling
good about what we see. Everyone
has goals, and mine conflicts with
yours and yours, I’m sure. So
what then? There was a time
when we could go for a swing
in our sling (I prefer mine
on the rooftop terrace
and not in the dungeon).
The very next day, his doctor terminated
all of his prescriptions for medications meant
to elevate his spirits. Everyone could see that
he was soaring, had broken through. We in the
medical profession are always the last to know,
thought the doc, rubbing the creases on his
forehead and sighing as if literally affected.
Take a pass at this ask
if you will, but if I say hey
clean your goddamned souls
would you know where to begin?
if you will, but if I say hey
clean your goddamned souls
would you know where to begin?