 |
| tap or right click to enlarge, or click here |
Unless Our Spirit Wakes In Us We'll Drown
(Or, On This All Too Near but Most Unnecessary Apocalypse)
We all of us together living dream alone,
& when all is (almost) said, & some of it is done,
stand (if we are lucky) on the shoulders of those peers
made expert by experiment,
if not enough by years.
It's like that story with the garden, you know, the chick, the snake:
They struggle to sedate us;
We struggle to awake.
This 'They' is a neither unified nor organized assault,
is powerful, relentless, one-pointed to a fault.
Despite its seeming gentleness, we find tsunami threatening:
So should we recognize the enemies
of dreamer, set, & setting…
...even if within our Selves. Especially. Could be that part deciding!
(What?) (When?)(What if?)
The questions overpower — our innocence — confiding —
as bright of eye & bushy tailed as government recruits
set up to be knocked down
by once trusted men in suits.
Where — this metaphor... does not 'do justice,' is also where — the Law...
ius, iura may be both, my Friend,
but in the end, l'Etat c'est Moi.
So... 'let us go then, you & I,' indeed, this time to make a vow
as holy & as sacred as any we know how
as serious as if our hearts hung in some balance otherwise
to do a little more each day to extirpate their lies.
If all of us (imagine!) at once withheld informed consent
TPTB would find their hands were forced — most fully — to relent —
(& not in empty word alone!) Although, so difficult a vision
hinges more upon our accuracy than it does upon precision:
for it must vanquish at long last the forces of stagnation,
of corporate indifference, of fascist machination…
that in this foreboding pre-apocalypse seems to me sine qua non
of all the creeping evil that we, together, face,
& all of us, right here, right now, must choose to carry on:
must create anew this broken World,
must save the Human Race.
by a female Faust, revised slightly this October 26, 2023
