turned around
fashioned upside down
set to scale, and
resembling something almost human

where have the last 20 years gone
the jobs, the loves
the escapades, the ecstasies
the conversations, the poems
the agorist dreams of revolution

murdered at the last moment
as we trade hopes and fears
like dusty playing cards
in a labyrinth of adult intent

humbled by fate
we are broken by time
then put back together again
though, somethings’ missing
and the pieces don’t quite fit

uniform yet unordered
we wrap language
in soft little packages
so as not to offend
as the children are schooled
in the arts of
excess and division

embrace, perceive and produce

a man has a voice
but no face
stopped in the middle of the road
there’s rioting in the streets

hard lines
map uncertain shrines

did they trap us in this oblique life
or did we simply
trap ourselves

sitting here at this machine
i still feel trapped
trapped by the faint memory of words
trapped by shorter breaths
trapped by the clock
trapped by ideas
that come to die
like young men in useless wars

but then, a moment of reprieve
as she comes to set me free
i’ve told you many times before
about this kitten in my lap
every morning
purring softly and
staring at me with squinting eyes
she is my only constant
and she is beautiful

more beautiful than the sunrise
more beautiful than all the women i’ve bedded
more beautiful than the fall of civilization

cats hold the secrets of the universe
in their small, fertile, feline forms
it’s a truth
that only artists and madmen know