features

The harvest never

comes, it is all blossoming—
sorry to be the bearer—

on one side the opportunists on the other
the schoolchildren the doctors the dogs –
does it turn out nicely in the end they ask,
we are willing to be killed but is it for a reason they
ask,

the spectators are getting bored says
the manual, we cannot have them bored, it must all
turn to fire, soon,we must feed
the flames, we are sorry we have not had time
to think , we cannot say
what is right, the birds, the gestation,
the enlightenment--

others are waiting now
for their turn at the lectern,

you are grown men deal with it,

phenomena are just like that,

they will wash you free of blame,
the clocks, the delay, the millisecond,

how the promise fulfilled did away
only with the promise,

songs yes all being played at once,
and everyone coming to talk about it,

you have wandered the halls of centuries
too long, you have taken in
exhibit a, b,c,d,e,f,g,
and all the other exhibits,

remorse on the back cover but no one
turns it over--