by H.L.
Like Proverbs for Dummies
the lame words limp across the stage
On a bad night in a bluesy dive on the edge of nowhere
the undistinguished crowd strains to understand
but the smoke and the tears
wipe away the meaning
New Year's aught eight
Homeless pupils looking for eyes with color
squint to shield the soul from reality
Unable to hide bloodshot maps to the future
desperation howls from the tenor sax
It is still midnight somewhere
On an international date line
boomers who cannot escape yesterday
advise us of their pain and prescribe bad policy filled with hate
Even the seers pull down the shades and wait
The inevitable appears like a dream
posing as victory over death
Not yet morning there is still hope
Comfort hiding in the fog
Somewhere behind the gray cloud of whatever undisclosed sunshine
regenerates the beat of life
Children who have not watched the news
breathe deeply to propel the perpetual wind of change
