I’ve never been the problem
But then again, never had the solution,
To solve the misery that ponders us all
I’ve always been another question
In a long line of rhetoric,
an exclamation point in the middle of a hypothesis.
There’ve been times I thought I had the answers
But the easier things are,
The harsher scream the fouls
Watching the sudden twist of a turbine’s gale,
Trysting nautically, amidst a fresh gust of carbonic air,
Fleeting, permissive, derision, dismissing—
A damage plan for the self-defeatist, a manifesto for a never-ender—Sword of promise in disguise, a fury with a roving eye—Assemble NOW the gallery of rogues!
Too often we assimilate with those ravenous chills, elucidating amidst the shiver of a broken dream— a few moments truncated, by grammar, both bent and unrelieved…