jan 8 2009
It’s all gone now.
Everything is gone.
I claw and scratch and pull
Dragging ghosts against their will.
I drown myself and suffocate
In as many forgottens as I can,
Stuffing splendid stories full into my face.
Gluttonously tearing at the sinews of history
Pulling the past before me
Bleary-eyed and teary
Wringing my hands in torment
That I was born so squarely in the wrong year;
So completely out of place.
The skin-shell from today
Caging yesterday’s kings in vapor.
Everything is gone
Except for me.
And a handful of ageless left-behinds
Cursed to breathe today’s insipid air
Wishing wistfully to inhale memories long left
In stones and songs and silver prints.
We lament of history’s ineptness
To utter itself the same way twice;
To repeat itself as promised
And relieve us of progress.
We would rather look back at those who looked forward
And keep from them the nightmare
We’ve sqaundered from their genius.
Everything is vapor now.
The darling antiques an escaping steam.
Yet more concrete to me in every way
Than any creation of modernity.