Wednesday, January 9, 2019

Desperate Texting

The past has effervesced.
On the Rive Gauche
There are yellow vests.
But we're always safe in the moment
Even if what is remembered
And what will be
Have flipped.

The Allegory of the Bubble:
The only order we know
Disintegrates before our eyes.
It can't happen, you say, fast enough,
As if we've been at war against
Not each other, but the consensus nightmare
For so long it seems now like a dream.

Our song becomes wrong,
Words change on the page,
Concepts disappear --
The one true fixed reality
Turns out nothing to be shared.
That's a line your life has led up to
-- As if it was worth it then.

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