And What If I Should Win | Poem

 
And What If I Should Win

by David Jackson

what,  then
fame or peace?
Which is it?
When the music flows like the sunrise  settles
upon the horizon, like the
wind itself
settles upon the
contours of the
windows into
the soul
itself, or
into the  poem
of hope itself,
yes, the embodiment of hope within the  music,
within the music, the embodiment of the
music, the
soul, the  visual,
the
art,
at least
tries,
at least
settles into the  trickle
of a small stream
somewhere
making
almost silent
peace.

And I didn't know
what to say,
the correctness of the thing,
the oneness, or the
randomness of the thing,
in the morning,
in the evening,
in
nothingness,
which is where we end up when
we try,
or when we don't
try
with out hope,
which is why God
put
us
here

or more trivial
and evil by the connection,
lockstep,
or
stupid expression of
athiesm, or
what, stupidity?
What did he expect,
that the hordes would not rise?
leaving his daughter
at risk?
One wonders
either way,
like the 200 nukes in Pakistan and India

If you cover yourself with manure
then radiation cannot affect
you.
The NUKES are sAFE mAN
nO pROBLEM
everything's fine,
and if you happen to be from another galaxy and
find this
amid the fossil remains,
well,
we blew ourselves up.

to David   /   to Moongate
 

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