The Natural State & Other Thoughts: Poetry

The past sometimes
Rides on my shoulder
Like a master with a whip,
Digging his knees into
My ribs to urge me onward
in this rat race
But now I've collapsed
in a heap
that can move no more
So they claim
To want transparency
In politics
But I ask you:
How much of these
Uncovered lies
Will we stand to hear
before we just tune
It all out completely,
The way they’ve
Wanted it in the first place?
Burn-out has now
Become a commonplace
Condition called “Success”
Remember when we
Stared down at the crab
In the sand in wonder,
Our young minds
Already skipping beneath
The surface of the ocean?
We prefer to ponder
Such life from the
View of our living room
While wrapped in cellophane
And glass
"Is there enough paper
in The world?"
And even as I asked
this question
a dozen men calculated
the precise amount
of death that
must be doled out
to make it so
For an hour,
For a moment,
I asked for silence
For a second,
for an instant
There was totality

Then it was eclipsed
By the lonely screams
Of strangers who
Did not know
Silence is the most
Natural state there is

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