rising

sitting,
seething,
watching,
thinking;
capable of nothing,
apropos of everything,
I worry
that I may join
the frozen,
locked in cages
of our own fabrication:
too much to lose;
can we afford
destruction,
much less
reconstruction?

I do not know;
as Rundgren said:
"if we had known
what to do, we would have
gone and done it
for ourselves."

so I grab my piolet,
and rise, grinning.



March 23, 2009. From the forthcoming collection, Spoken Rage.

Copyright © 2009, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.