Excerpts from the Future

Kneeling amid the ruins of what should have been,

haunted by the ghosts of what could have been,

holding the entrails of last years empty promises,

hoping and praying for more of the same.

Don't rock the boat, keep it a float, close your eyes and believe,

believe believe believe in our addiction to the lotus tree,

close the mind, empty the soul, of the doubts that we're not free,

that something is terribly terribly wrong with us

taking an eye for an eye until the whole world's blind,

knowing it's always been dark for no one remembers the light

that used to shine in the halos used for target practice.

I would submit, for those still doubting their nail polish clashes

with someone's goatee as we reach for the eyes that no longer see

hoping in vain we can read the braille left behind

by the last generation of the deaf and blind, that for this new year

we live as if life meant more than long lines at the super market

as we pack lunches for the wait in the traffic jams on the highway to hell.

Peace is not the answer nor is love ... but maybe, just maybe,

acknowledging we all share the same blood will at least slow the flood

of all the lives washed down the kitchen sink's disposal.