Whatever is broken will remain so.
The universe does not know when
We decide things like broken. It
Just continues to move without regard to
Names and degrees of importance. All is
Equal here. This time I am equal to you.
I will tell you what to be concerned with
When the night makes that noise it does,
Telling us we have no right to be here.
Sparks fill the atmosphere and join our
Language as words of compassion or damnation.
There is no regard for the fact that we might
Have family or that we might be in love with
Someone who is quite important to us. No
Rules here my friends.. The herds of migration
Have no trouble flattening the trails toward
Water or a safe harbor away from the teeth
The sea brings to our voyages there. You
Can place bets but chances are I will have
Sex with those you love and you will have
Sex with those that I love and when migration
Is over we will have no memory at all. Everything
will be the change. Everything will be old again.
We will have no memory except that we once
Could dance. There are sounds, of course.
The great composers play with our libidos
As with flutes or double reed bassoons. We
Will delight at the tickling the tongue makes
Across the reeds. We will think each note
Is special, is ours alone. It is not. The great
Symphony moves into our loins and our minds.
We are lucky if we can remember who wrote
The theme. The memory for music is always
The most difficult to posses.
We will always salute you.