Concerto for blunt instrument

An irregular heartbeat from d.o. to you. Not like a daily kos, more like a sometime sloth. Fast relief from the symptoms of blogarrhea and predicated on the understanding that the world is not a stage for our actions, rather it is a living organism upon which we depend for our existence.

Monday, July 25, 2011

Bad Atmosphere

this is not what it was supposed to be
how many fields ago, clear blue and clouds
billowing and soft breeze, dancing leaves
us wondering if our own children, grand
children will be left with broken days
loss of ways what was such a gift to us:
birdsong moments and fragile wings so bright,
colors and scents molding memory then
something, a shadow, a careless movement
beyond the yard, in the distance, in the house
unnamed unease and a growing world of
bad ideas, bad atmosphere for all the best
reasons, for the children playing outside.

all the human population has more than doubled
since then, the others have dwindled and
the children's time to play, scheduled, gone
the way of no one does that any more, and
they get in the car and drive off the edge
of the chart where everything is made away
where science meets the unknown and
the air is seemingly conditioned for your
comfort until the lights go out and the gas
runs out there on that hot asphalt hell and
the angry yells and the wars, the wars, and
the empty silence. try texting that. try liking
that. the links are numbered now. there are
only so many "resources" and that
away is right here today and the
atmosphere? the atmosphere is bad.


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