Possible, possible, possible --
No, I dont think so.
Yes, this is America, but
Does it deserve to be?
To be free? To be beautiful?
To be someone? To be there
In the fray, blazing a golden path -
Way -- way up to god? To
Man? No. I dont think so.
Dont know, so...
So do we stay? Do we try?
Do we pretend? No. I dont think so.
Don't know, so...
So go back to looking down.
Looking up is going forward --
Into NOTHINGNESS.
Cold, blue, airless --
So. It's possible?
No. I dont think so.

"Did you know what You were doing?"

Uninspired.
Understanding utter unction --
Shall we say extreme --
I think i missed the boat
Because i thought it was about
me.
But i jumped in anyhow.
Bleeding Bread, but not for bloody me.
Broken? Beaten?
Yes, perhaps. Not like Him.
Reconciliation?
Raging against dark demons --
But its not rage that revitalizes.
Cold water first --
I dont remember -- In nomine --
-- Domine, non tantum pedes meos --
I want it though. All.
But i jumped for what? Why? When? Where?
Cold water now, to fight back -- but still
Uninspired.

Some Things

The Books

Hockey helmet next to books --
Grey helmet, brown box, black books.
Terrible titles -- Rockin' Out, Life-
Span Development, Chemistry, Physical Science --
Where are those titles i love?
Where are those boards i adore?
Belloc and Chesterton shelved?
Dickens and Dostoevsky dead?
Where are those pages that hold me safe and near?
-- forgotten--
Helmet and home covered in dust,
Yet these titles so bold? So bright?
So monstrous?

****

The Book Ends

Empty photo albums
Full of forgotten memories
Holding dear those times most sacred
Holding silent those things most secret
Holding back those heady tomes
Of times and triumphs not our own.
Holding them back? or holding them up?
Holding them up? Perhaps; but,
Maybe,
Only not holding their own.