Unsaved (a poem)

Hoping for an easier day today…

Now is the morning
Winter is far off
but our discontent
knows no calendar
Years of repressed anger
wait to explode
in spasms of rage
a scream directed at the sky
but sprung from the earth
to which it is doomed to return
It’s all stupid and pointless
and matters more than anything
in this moment
out of all the moments
we fill with one distraction
or another
because the moment is everything
and it’s very likely
that everything will never
be enough—
certainly not enough
to save us
The real indignity
is that each of us
will be forced to leave
but nobody wants
to go with us

(18 September 2018)



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