it is addressed thusly:
A thought.
it reads:
Light and dark, it returns to this
A question? Are there two things, or one
Does the moon shining degrade the sun
Is all but illusion besides such bliss -
The child balancing on the iron rail
The salt crystals glint before they sail
And I am as a foreigner in this land
It is as it was of old, but not the same
Those, the times of terror before strength came
Holding happiness was grasping at sand
We who once believed the sun rose and fell
Now we cannot regard even our sense of smell
Wisdom comes with suffering, then you see
Looking at the eyes of people in magazines
Alien, inhuman eyes of the likes you've not seen
While voices stammer on about being equal or free
The cracks are already formed, with immaculate force
Time and old choices prepared to run their course
People doubt constantly the seen or unseen
While both are happening before their eyes
The only thing invisible are the self-told lies
Moon and sun are symbol and real, as it has been
And will be, whether man perishes or thrives
We breathe in the cold, and the train arrives.


Dark City

it is addressed thusly:
A vision.
it reads:
The flickering scene; a great husk of a city
Roaring-past cars give an impression of life
Though the truth-unthought cut like a knife
Ignore what is ugly, regard what is pretty
While making nothing beautiful in truth
Know there is much between feck and ruth
And the high-school children chatter away, away
They think of ivory towers, roads gone round a bend
Never in their sight where that path must end
Beside a road that is nothing but ruts in soddy clay
Collects thaw and bright red-clay stain
To hidden places kept away from the plain
Where huddling faces are free in being poor
And the children speak many evils without a thought
Forgetting the ruined row where the mind was caught
A clinic for single colored mothers, and down a door
A place where they're unmade, on overlooked public dime
Where the only children are unwanted, and crime.
And all is consumed: life, love, time.


No Rain

it is addressed thusly:
An ode
it reads:
That diamond dust, and no rain
Can match by rainbow or thunderhead
It does not in such fashion cast its bread
Though squall in sun its virtue plain
But lingering powder is caught aloft
Long past when the blizzard coughed
The crystal day will come and snow again


Baltimore, Synedoche

it is addressed thusly:
A vision
it reads:
Downtown is empty after dusk
The stones forlorn in the park
Beggar will wait long for his mark
Midtown sits a hollow husk
Clack and clang, and gunshot sound
Violence, where life will be found
Urine and lye its only musk.


It Was a Very Good Year

it is addressed thusly:
An ode.
it reads:
In First Light we saw the sun again
In Purity, we faced the cold like men
In Spoke, we waited for seeds to grow
In Offering, we all turned to go
In Bloom we knew the words to say
In Rule we observed the longest day
In Sent we went forth glad and true
In Rest we retired with our retinue
In Rood we set out to survey the land
In Crown we brought in what we began
In Hearth we made coal alive with flame
In Borne we rose to recall the Name.
A twelve-month for our solemn year
For twelve makes its perfection clear.