clockwork

 

put courage to paper

and song to voice

these sounds outside

they are blips and beeps and constant 

consolation, contradiction, confusion, command

they are made by the damned

a step outside maslows graveyard

how many condemned

do we own?

must we own?

can we own?

who here rations the divide

between the lines and beyond the pale

can it be hells waiting room 

and not the wall

who here is tracking for their own doom

convinced, and utterly convincing

they are the damned

the age of fire and water

for a while we had clothes and foods 

the lazyboy the Ikean 

but the colds of earth 

layering days and years and urgences 

upon the male fantasy of Shelter 

has rendered the Impermiable Woman 

to earth and wind and now everything 

is fire and water 

everything changes, is earnest 

constantly progressing, passionate 

everyone is struggling all the time 

to stay afloat 

to soothe the burns of uncertain time 

and we are back in the uncomfortable rotunda 

of turning to the patternologists 

for comfort and comedy 

oh btw, are we still dimorphic 

did everyone agree? oh they voted!