"There's not much doubt in any of our minds that no complete idea springs fully formed from our brow,
needing only a handshake and a signature on the contract to send it off into the world to make twenty-five billion dollars.
The germ of the idea grows slowly..." - Walt Kelly

Thursday, April 13, 2017

What is hope?

It's been a year since I've put anything up here. That is, in a word, unfortunate. Thankfully, today I realized that we're smack in the middle of NaPoWriMo, which seemed like a great time to jump back in and see if I could still do this. You be the judge.

It is a scream
from atop a
minaret - something
like a prayer and
also like
a hundred curses.
The future is
no longer the future.
It has been
gulped down
by a greedy child,
red-faced and crying,
clutching the world
like it belongs
only to him.
The future is
the past and the past
is a gift from Death.

Playing on my iTunes at this very moment:
Oddisee, Lifting Shadows

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