Eye on History

It is easy, oh so easy
to seek and find
behind leaf and bough
in shadow and in rain-puddles
a fear that we know.

The shape of our anxieties
and the taste of our fears
lives in the contours of
our daily lives – in the rooms where we live.

The boardrooms we frequent
the hallways we scale
all sound as hollow as
rocks in the graves.

The four pm food courts of
forgettable meals
these too are the
price of the days that we fail

Each moment of belief
or a hand not extended
Each easy swallow of
political sandwich

To read is a power
to write is a fist
to the bleeding eye of history’s
impotent mass

These days are creeping
there’s no time to waste
stand, write, talk, scream
before today is past.