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Odysseus and Naropa Playing with Prometheus in 2021
Messages in bottles
Dancing on a string
Radar waves / Sonar calls
As the sirens sing
I pick up the tin can
Ocean is still there
Pulsing in each person
Zombies open air
Looking for the heartstrings
Please don’t eat the kids
Searching for connection
Watching TikTok vids
Refuge in nature
Or huddled up at home
Taking to the streets
We shall not die alone
We’re all gonna die
But maybe fat and old
Knowing we helped some
Or on our mountain gold
Writing for ourselves
Swirl a name on the pond
Narcissus’ ripples
Meet Saturn’s rings beyond
Blast shields down Seal airlock
Language is a virus
Keep it to myself
Or mask my intentions
Until I’d learned to like us
Where are we going with this
Nestor, can you even drive
You’ve run us ragged
And into a beehive
Boxes break crates crack
Suck on honey’d marrow
Gold fingered drippings
String from each mouth arrow
Ears and eyes for poems
Bring us back to home
Take back twenty-odd years
Change is how we’ve grown
The struggle is real
and real people live lives
We work for real
and raise families
and do right by our wives
[significant others signified]
Change is constant,
but the discord in our discourse
faces a rising tide
The volume is pitched,
the waves are flailing,
and the temperature
too hot we surmise
Thus the narrator doth beseech thee
(talking back into his shell):
Turn down words overblown
If privileged take a drink
All assholes have a heart
Don’t kill us Help us think
