(Untitled)
The world knows not my name but who I am,
And none of the humbleing and humbling greats
Will tell me this. Life lessons are sorrowful
Indoctrinations enough to put one’s knees
Down in the sand and tell them, don’t stand
Up, but acquire your dignity, and that is
Your life’s work. If you’ve worked selfie cameras
You will have witnessed doomscrolled grim faces
Printing themselves onto skin and bone masked
By their names, against the prodding of poets
Who doze on everything and do not forgive
Nor understand the procreation of our words.
Art does not improve, they say, and it’s true.
Perhaps language and life do, though, and in the end
Nothing you read takes you off the ground.
It buries you deeper but that is really
Only fair, many say; You will, even insidiously,
Love Good. Hunger will not unspeak you.
Dante will not send you to Heaven but
If your goodwill takes flight you make
A Paradise on Earth. This question
Amongst other truly important ones
Can only be rhetorical. Our brains are too large to
Grow wings, too selfish to truly want
And too eager to leave problems to children.
But we are good at thinking we defy physics
By flying without lift, and that’s why you
Should read a book, think about it and tell
Yourself and family you’ve spent some good time.
We’ve failed to provide Good enough.
If you think you can fly you may as well try
To bring some of it down to your Earth.