Monday, March 26, 2012

3530. AS LOST AS THE HAPPY

AS LOST AS THE HAPPY
All those archaeologists and bone hunters
and paleontologists, they all chatter as one:
wearing scarves and eating French toast, singing
on phones and marrying the weather. Yet, (oh
modern day and land of this), there is nothing
for what we are serving, and we are as lost
as the happy. Why, today, will the needle's
point set on the sun's perfect pivot?
-
Yet not for me, and I will write of the killing floor;
the flow of a million slaves trudging, the blood
sacrifices and all those virgins with blood on
their faces and hands. 'The land lashes off
to Egypt again as we tumble : roiling back into
the Nile's past and the Nile's future;
Temple of Dendur, indeed.
-
Now it is morning again, and another day
has dawned. My own spirit is fifteen thousand
years old and a day, by your reckoning, and
today is that day and those above were my
very own words and I am splitting my seams
to be gone. I am as lost as the happy can be.

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