A forgetful goodness

Sisters and brothers

come near

witness the birth of

the new Right

the new Good

the new Morality

the brightly colored prism

of a new reality

a new judgementalism

fearful of debate

afraid of

the disagreeable

Proclaimers of reason

doubters of dissidence

A new society

formed in ideal looking forward

forgetting the past

looking on it with the regret of a long 

night and wobbly morning

Once again

drunk on the idea of a new way

filling up 

chugging and chugging

the rhetoric of a confused

pantheistic 

athiestic

but deeply religious society

worshipping many more idols

than the Athenians at Mars Hill

Philosophers 

Epicureans

Stoics

Endlessly streaming consciousness in public forums 

spewing thoughts on each other

until something sticks

This new era is perfect in its own way

moving together as one

gaining momentum

like the Facists in the 30's

we are swept off our feet

by the inherit rightness of our leaders words

Impressed by the prosperity of our minds

blown away by our potential

always thinking forward

never dwelling on any moment for 

very long

This new society has a strong hand

which sweeps swiftly

removing the inharmonious chorus

trimming and pruning

with impunity

unsure of what we are creating

but striving for it

For the ultimate end

for that perfect sunset

for that long night

for that wobbly morning

and for the long nap and medicine that follows

A perfect people

standing on the imperfect lattice 

of old

While the vine of a new morality continues to creep

twisting and branching

like wild ivy

unsure of where it started

covering up 

what doesn't belong.

Roots to china

The tree stump in the desert

has no purpose

but to turn to stone

some day

It's life is over

no longer able to grow

or hope for something better

it mearly sits

decapitated

while the sun bakes it's heart 

And a sun baked heart

is the hardest kind

because

it feels heat and longs for water

but cannot see the day

for which the floods might return

And just like a dead 

petrifying tree stump

I have no mobility

and feel the pressure of 

a life now wasting

in the sun

A once promising life

beaten down

by God's life giving rays

because I am not in a position 

to accept them

No leaves

no branches

no families of birds and bugs 

no rich

cool

dark soil

the kind you would dig your fingernails into

when you were a kid

and you had an idea of what 

life would be like 

and you wrenched your fingers through the dirt

searching for China

and worms

and other things

that made being a child

so much better than now