5495. WHY I'VE GOT TO EVADE YOU (the modern age)

WHY I'VE GOT TO EVADE YOU

(the modern age)

The sullen vase sits upon the shelf  -  motiveless,

as if it had a meaning to divulge but cared no to.

I meander over to inspect the flowers, as if I too

had reason to do so. I don't. There is none.

-

This is another happening : tomorrow's venture

blistered into a liquid-filled heart set to burst.

Dim light thwarts any reading  -  of this place,

this thing, or the situation at hand. I assume we 

have been here before. That sort of 

familiarity breeds a contempt.

-

Once I saw a car after it crashed; split straight

around and up a roadside telephone pole. Occupants

were all over the grass  -  shattered would be too 

good a word. The silence around the scene was as

odd as the still-spinning right front wheel higher up

the pole. There was no motive or reason.

-

Right then I could have been far away, someplace 

else, watching all this on screen, or between blinders,

or through a 3-D lens. It's as if I remembered common

things of some thirty years before. So much has changed,

yet a memory lingers.

-

Alone, I am sitting here to write to you.

Singly, I am amassing letters to words to sentence 

to message  -  the thin bronze of sequel to event, after

the fact. These are difficult times, all around us,

and for me, each of us, all.

-

I wish nothing but joyous news.

I want to live forever.