Here and Now
Time raps on
in an inconspicuous loop
and maybe we’ve been there—
who is ever certain.
The cracks in the earth,
an undercurrent of hush;
there are those who believe
on the last day the ground will split open
uniting bodies with souls,
those who believe
we waste too much on foreign aid,
and some who believe
they’ll have another beer.
There is too much
emphasis on perfection
among the living
anyway. There will be time
enough in the next life
to be the model citizen;
the kind streets are named after.
2010 © Michael A. Wells – all rights reserved