Insane place.

Insane pace.

The kingdom of the beaten down.

Hope rides

a long mortuary train

and Faith lingers


on the threshold.

How much more

could we give

to our sin?

Could we give everything?

Joy is a nation state,

seized and conquered,

or a fool’s proclamation.

Driven to and fro.

Birth, to work, to death.

A prescribed race.

Equality of outcome.

Fate sits,

waiting on the sidelines,

sharing a knowing grin

with all the angels.

Splitting off into a knew life,

is like breaking free

from gravity.

Deciding, in mid-fall

that you would rather


than make impact.

Who could say,

“It is what it is.”?

We know from what it was

that it becomes something else.

Expectations diminished

in the wake

of a wave in the timeline.

So much to do.

So much to see.

Like screaming in a vacuum,

or fighting in a dream.

Struggle and fall?

Or, wake up and fly?

Who knows the code

that gets us past

our final flight?

Rabid day-to-day.

Run the circuit,

get the pay.

Be an hour early

for your plane.

With any luck

the next destination

is sane.



DJR – 2022

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