FREESTYLEVISION

It was open to conclusions,
Drawn possibly in crayon to perplex
The unwilling to willfully look
Beyond conjecture of a previously tired
Diffusion of text and message.

Never sure of the spin that evolves,
The take of the respondents, their addition
To the running the changes, carrying
The melody through forests of release,
Bumping up against the time of stay,

And away to the edges of final retort
Brings us with & against, coming &
Going. Walking in, & with traffic ’til
All avenues converge in resolve that
No one knew was coming or was even there.

The good fortune express has come
Shedding its goods on someone
We saw on t.v. with that wry smile,
Pretending its not transitory,
And only fifteen minutes long.
In the middle of it all we climaxed,
Led protest against the approval
Of the imprisoned choir. Totalitarian
Rule was just whispering in the background
At this time. The nomenklatura were quietly
Pounding keypads in the outer recesses.
Microwaves chimed up and down the complex halls
As “fingers to the bone” became the standard
Work routine. What happened

To the sylvan yesteryears that maybe never were?
Much info rolls across our screens undigested now.
The frenzy gathers on the walls. “This
Too shall pass,” quotes some raven.
Quickly devouring fast food we purchase
A moment of time on this bar stool,
Listening to platitudes of the lonely hearts.

Nothing holds.
No matter how much
You water it, the soul slips
Away. It lingers in the concert hall
As the end arrives it leaves
Collectively with all others
Wandering to the exits, disappearing

Into the night. A crew will clean up.
The silent edifice holds the nothing
That still remains. What we
Claim to know continues to enfold
Us in its cloak. It warms
The heart in transition like
The fireplace fire you unplug
In the coming of the light.