Transience

Transience At the vaulting dome waves refused to travel Unless on a few pieces of silver and a name. The flying metallic bird will take two full hours These angels in turquoise will feed our appetites. There is fear lurking in our minds behind bravado.... More

Transience At the vaulting dome waves refused to travel Unless on a few pieces of silver and a name. The flying metallic bird will take two full hours These angels in turquoise will feed our appetites. There is fear lurking in our minds behind bravado. We try to shut out noises of after-death and failure We blame ourselves for all our stupid failures As though they really mattered to us and the dead. We then read patterns in the grayed whys of decay. As though the whole thing is a science of death And we have nearly mastered the art of dying, Of succumbing to the need to maintain transience. We wear the polyester film of transience about us We read poetry in the trivial tragedies of their tatters.  Less