Odysseus and Naropa Playing with Prometheus in 2021

 

 

Messages in bottles

Dancing on a string

Radar waves / Sonar calls

As the sirens sing

 

I pick up the tin can

Ocean is still there

Pulsing in each person 

Zombies open air

 

Looking for the heartstrings

Please don’t eat the kids

Searching for connection

Watching TikTok vids

 

Refuge in nature

Or huddled up at home

Taking to the streets

We shall not die alone

 

We’re all gonna die

But maybe fat and old

Knowing we helped some

Or on our mountain gold

 

Writing for ourselves

Swirl a name on the pond

Narcissus’ ripples

Meet Saturn’s rings beyond

 

Blast shields down Seal airlock

Language is a virus

Keep it to myself

Or mask my intentions

Until I’d learned to like us

 

Where are we going with this

Nestor, can you even drive

You’ve run us ragged 

And into a beehive

 

Boxes break crates crack

Suck on honey’d marrow

Gold fingered drippings

String from each mouth arrow

 

Ears and eyes for poems

Bring us back to home

Take back twenty-odd years

Change is how we’ve grown

 

The struggle is real 

and real people live lives

We work for real 

and raise families 

and do right by our wives 

[significant others signified]

Change is constant, 

but the discord in our discourse 

faces a rising tide

The volume is pitched, 

the waves are flailing, 

and the temperature 

too hot we surmise

 

Thus the narrator doth beseech thee 

(talking back into his shell):

 

Turn down words overblown

If privileged take a drink

All assholes have a heart

Don’t kill us Help us think

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