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The Future Remains Unwrit

We’re a complicated people,
a mixed and crazy breed.
We can always blame our parents,
for we’re all of Adam’s seed,
though in fact it changes nothing
and there’s nothing guaranteed.
The future remains unwrit.

The species dreams a dream,
all the bounds unspecified;
horizons stretch from berm to beam
with hearts can-opened wide;
though nothing makes much sense to us
there’s much left to decide.
The future remains unwrit.

The grand and glorious grief
of heroes’ anguish, spent
unwinding numb sensation,
reflecting inelegant
the image streams of crisis
without form, impermanent.
The future remains unwrit.

No matter how you cut it
there’s a strange, weird story here.
Denials, accusations,
obfuscations, and veneer —
no final answers given,
all the songs sound insincere.
The future remains unwrit.

22 Jan 1998

Originally published at
Light painting photo by the author.

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An avid reader who writes about arts, culture, literature & other life obsessions. @ennyman3 Look for my books on Amazon

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