Do You?

There is a boundary.
Can we hope to take every piece of joy in?
A moment’s rest is all they ask,
but in that
lies everything we ever hoped for.

Flowers bloom
and a garden grows,
birds suggest things,
within memory.

I took a thought
before I plunged you down again,
slipping loosely on tea,
breaking bones,
bringing you round.

A horse grazes in a field.
It is a lightening thing,
far from exposure,
comfortable
and gentle.

The last breath was taken
in some distant time,
disordered,
I have collected the parts;
reconditioned.

Suns shine,
all of them,
giving life to our planet,
it’s true,
we need them all.

Some we don’t need
as they hollow or backslide,
dangerous,
crimes are relative
and crooked locks,
forced.

The universe is a giant clock.
Every winch
evening,
straightening out
in a fashion;
working and allocating.

Cough out the water
and we can begin again,
giving hope,
if you tell the truth.

The moons tell
their alignment,
while our subtle Earth
is ruled by Fools.

Spit now.
We think you might,
perhaps,
be able to defend yourself.

Base rape,
assassination,
mutilation,
and the breadth of war
go on.

As they always have.

Just as we had chosen.